iiiiiHiiiiiiijiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiaiiiiiiai 

I 14 (I | OII.I414I M*<4 it f4«<«l ««••««<« « 















































































































































































































































































































































































































































V-> ;v *.■& Sia^v-T ! -\ 


WM0^^ 

**& ' i s.*V m ~ 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


mmmn 


A<7,» . ';vr> 

* 4 %'- 



i.i«en»J= I ■ '"' 
^SWat'J-Joes'.? ' ci» ffs 




5 > 


iwmm 


THE FOUNDATION EIBRARx 

FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


WMMMBBSMk 



j T'.‘- 



































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE FIRST YEARS 
OF CHILDHOOD. 







.ajaoa*! aJTTU 3 ht 


<dbiB9 sidi ed bluow 99Blq ^Tsoib A 
ni 9lqo9q glddil on 9i9dJ 919 W 
,d;hixn aJi 98o! bluow o'kil lo ^noe edT 
;ti nigod oi naiblidD on 9T9dJ 919W 

,woi§ oi abud add t amTol ofddxl oM 
jiabnavrua JiBad gnhiinbfi 9dJ 9dfira bnA 

,wotd bnB l8J89id no abnsd alddil o i^L 
.lebaaJ abToda-avoI ^niirhdi adJ q©9d oT 

,m9te ©icni woig bluow aluoa Tdniete odT 
<nBmudni a-rom otuJbu ^ni[99lnU 
( muJ aeanbloa axoJa oi nsxn bnA 
.ncmow ttBdl 8891 9d bluow nBxnow bnA 

<xmBdo aJx aaof bluow ,baabnx <«noa s' alU 
;Jx nx^9d ot 89idBd ou oTodi ai9W 
<ad fduow bfiow exdi 99Bfq luialob A 
.ii nx 9lqo9q olbtil on oi9d;t aiaW 


/miixAW .0 ,\»— 





A dreary place would be this earth. 

Were there no little people in it; 

Ihe song of life would lose its mirth, 

Were there no children to begin it; 

L o little forms, like buds to grow, 

And make the admiring heart surrender; 

jNo little hands on breast and brow, 

To keep the thrilling love-chords tender. 

i he sterner souls would grow more stern, 
Unfeeling nature more inhuman, 

And man to stoic coldness turn, 

And woman would be less than woman. 


Life’s song, indeed, would lose its charm, 
Were there no babies to begin it; 

A doleful place this world would be, 
Were there no little people in it. 













— J . G. Whittier, 

















































































































































































































4 


. » *> 








©Cl. A 297 (> '>3 

V\-p • 1 











EDITORS-IN-CHIEF 


KATHARINE NEWBOLD BIRDSALL, 

Editor of Young People’s Book Shelf, Etc. 

ROSSITER JOHNSON, Ph.D., LL.D., 

Editor-in-Chief, The Great Events of History, Little Classics, Etc. 

WILLIAM GEORGE JORDAN, 

Secretary of the Governors’ Conference; Author of the Kingship of 
Self-Control; The Power of Truth, Etc. 

ERIC DOOLITTLE, C.E., 

Assistant Professor of Astronomy, University of Pennsylvania. 

TUDOR JENKS, A.B., LL.B., 

Author of Boy’s Book of Explorations; Electricity for Young 

People, Etc. 

A. S. ISAACS, A.M., Ph.D., 

Professor of Semitic Languages, New York University. 

EDWIN WILEY, M.A., Ph.D., 

Author of The Old and The New Renaissance; Editor History of the 

United States. 

ANDREW F. CURRIER, A.B., M.D., 

Associate Surgeon New York Women’s Hospital; Associate Editor 

New York Medical Journal. 

G. STANLEY HALL, Ph.D., LL.D., 

President of Clark University. 

FREDERICK CONVERSE BEACH, Ph.B., 

Editor of The Scientific American. 

CHARLES WELSH, 

Author of Right Reading for Children; Self-Culture for Young 

People, Etc. 


General Editor 
GEORGE EDWIN RINES, 

Editor of the Americana Encyclopedia, Etc. 




Contributors to Volume I. 


KATHARINE NEWBOLD BIRDSALL 

Editor-in-Chief. 

Editor of Young People’s Book Shelf, Etc. 

ADELIA BELLE BEARD and LINA BEARD 

Joint Authors and Illustrators of What a Girl Can Make and Do; 

Things Worth Doing, Etc. 

NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH 

Joint Editor with Kate Douglas Wiggin of The Children’s Crimson 

Classics. 

MAUD BURNHAM SHANNON 

Author of Descriptive Stories for All the Year. 

CAROLINE SHERWIN BAILEY 

Author of Daily Program of Gift and Occupation Work; For the 

Children’s Hour, Etc. 

HELEN KENDRICK JOHNSON 

Author of the Roddy Books; Our Familiar Songs, Etc. 

DELLA THOMPSON LUTES 

Editor of American Motherhood, Cooperstown, N. Y. 

MARION BROMLEY NEWTON 

Supervisor Physical Education and Playgrounds, Public Schools of 

Rochester, N. Y. 

MARY WHITE TALBOT 

Author of The Book of Games; The Child’s Rainy Day Book, Etc. 

CLARA D. PIERSON 

Author of the Pencroft Books, Etc. 





Contents of Volume I. 


PAGE 

Introduction to the Series . xv 

The First Years of Childhood. 

A Parley With Parents. 1 

Hero Worship. 1 

Understanding the Child . 2 

On Punishment . 4 

Fair Play . 6 

The Joy of Living. 7 

The Unfolding of the Flower. 8 

The Book Itself . 8 

Stories to Eead and to Tell. 9 

Nature and Animal Stories. 9 

Plays and Games. 10 

Verse and Music. 10 

Hand Work. 10 

Answers to Big Questions. 11 

The Art of Story-Telling. 

The Mother as a Story-Teller. 12 

Some Things to be Considered. 13 

The Value of Story-Telling. 15 

What Kind of Stories to Tell. 17 

The Essentials of the Model Story. 19 

Section I. Stories to Bead and to Tell. 

Kriss Kringle’s Visit. 21 

The White Babbit. 23 

Bob, The Faithful . 26 

Gran’daddy . 30 

About the Pygmies. 33 

How the Little Jackals Fooled the Lion. 38 

Little Black Epaminondas . 40 

How the Little Jackal Fooled Mr. Big Alligator. 43 

Prince Cherry and the Gold Bing. 47 

How to Find Gold. 53 

The Jester King . 54 

• • 

Vll 

































Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The Tortoise Who Could Not Hold Her Tongue.... 58 

The Story of Puss in Boots. 59 

The Story of Cinderella. 62 

A Hero of America. 67 

A Hero of England. 70 

The Crossbowman . 73 

Little Saint Genevieve . 76 

The Baby Moses . 78 

The Story of David . 81 

The Story of Daniel. 84 

The Story of Jacob and Esau. 87 

The Story of a Great French Artist. 90 

The True Story of a Great Animal Painter. 94 

The Tinker Boy. 97 

My Brother. 99 

It Blows and It Snows. 101 

The Little Bed Hen . 103 

The Story of the Three Little Pigs. 106 

The Tale of Peter Babbit. Ill 

The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse. 114 

Picture Stories .115-125 

Section II.—Nature and Animal Stories. 

Introduction. 

The White Hen’s Chickens . 126 

The Stubborn Stickleback . 130 

The Mildweed Caterpillars. 134 

The Milkweed Butterflies. 138 

The Independent Frog. 141 

The Garter Snake and the Toad. 148 

The Foolish Young Mud Turtle. 151 

How the Ants Worked Together. 155 

The Bude Young Dragon-Flies . 160 

The Clever Young Mouse. 165 

Section III.—Plays and Games. 

Baby Plays. 

Instinctive Traditional Play . 171 

Froebel’s Mother Plays. 173 

Finger Motions . 176 

Prose Finger Plays . 181 

The Kindergarten . 189 

The Kindergarten Toys . 191 






































CONTENTS. ix 

PAGE 

The Nursery and its Home and Kindergarten Equip¬ 
ment . 193 

Garden and Nature Work . 198 

How and What to Play with Children. 199 

Widening the Child’s World . 203 

Physical Exercises and Motion Plays. 

Introduction . 206 

General Instructions . 208 

Child’s Order of Exercises. 209 

Springtime . 209 

Summertime . 215 

Autumn. 224 

Winter . 230 

Music in Play. 239 

Games for Amusement. 

I. Games that Two Can Play. 

The Mill . 245 

Beads in the Hole. 246 

Dutch Hop Scotch . 247 

Wheelbarrow Pace . 248 

Wheel of Fortune . 249 

Jump Snail. 249 

Eailroad . 250 

Milk, Butter, Cheese. 250 

Tin Scraps . 251 

II. Games in the Family. 

Concert . 252 

Cherry Tree . 252 

Home-Made Quoits . 253 

Birds Fly . 253 

Modeling without Clay. 253 

Pretty Maid’s Dairy . 254 

Stringing Beads. 255 

Toy Shop . 255 

Sidewalk Railway . 256 

Sliced Valentines. 256 

The Family. 257 

III. Party Games. 

The Leaves and the Wind. 257 

The Gardener. 258 




































X 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Catch the Apple ..-. 258 

Drawing Railroad Trains for a Prize. 259 

Tossing the Monkey. 259 

Bunnie Puzzles. 260 

Punch and Judy . 260 

Colors . 261 

Judge . 261 

Cardinal’s Hat. 262 

Vegetable Puzzles. 262 

Witch in the Jar. 263 

Feather Play. 263 

A Visit to the Farm. 264 

So High Water. 264 

Bird’s Nest. 265 

Santa Claus Will Bring Me. 265 

Apple Race. 265 

The Peach. 266 

IV. Plans for Children’s Parties. , 

A Spring Birthday Party. 267 

Choosing Crops . 267 

Gardening . 268 

Planting the Border. 268 

Flowers or Weeds. 268 

The Magic Poppy. 269 

Country Homes . 269 

The Flowers and the Sun. 270 

An Air Party. 271 

An Air Ball Race on the Ground. 272 

A Visit to the Zoo. 272 

Naming Animals . 273 

A Noah’s Ark. 273 

Menagerie . 274 

A Jungle Maze. 275 

A Squirrel Party. 275 

Hunt the Squirrel Through the Wood. 276 

An Acorn Hunt. 276 

Candy Acorns . 276 

Acorn in the Squirrel’s Hole. 277 

Other Acorn Games. 277 

Throwing Acorns or “Spans”. 278 

An Afternoon with Scissors. 278 










































CONTENTS. 


xi 

PAGE 

Paper Dolls and Soldiers. 278 

Bunnies and Frogs. 279 

Dart Throwing. 280 

Pin-Wheel. 282 

A Scissors Party in the Family. 282 

Silk Winders. 282 

Section IV.—Music, Songs and Veeses. 

Songs with Music. 

Introduction . 284 

Little Polly Flinders. 285 

Song of the Bugle. 286 

The Little Chinese Boy . 288 

Once a Little Indian Girl. 290 

The Postman . 292 

The Story of Night. 293 

Sleep, Little Baby of Mine. 294 

Shell Song . 296 

Pain Song . 297 

A Little Bird. 298 

The Little Plant. 300 

The Busy Bee. 301 

Christmas Song. 302 

The Lighthouse . 304 

Verses. 

A Thought . 305 

To the Lady-Bird . 305 

Whole Duty of Children. 306 

Good-Night and Good-Morning. 306 

Bain . 307 

Baby . 307 

The Lost Doll. 308 

The Land of Counterpane. 308 

My Country, ’tis of Thee. 309 

Time to Bise . 309 

Bed in Summer. 310 

Baby Seed Song. 310 

Thank You, Pretty Cow. 311 

The Pedlar’s Caravan . 311 

Lullaby of an Infant Chief. 312 

Sweet and Low . 312 







































CONTENTS. 


• • 

Xll 

PAGE 

Happy Thought... 312 

The Miller of Dee. 313 

A Visit from St. Nicholas. 314 

My Bed is a Boat. 315 

The Star. 316 

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat . 316 

Meddlesome Matty. 317 

A Lobster Quadrille. 319 

Marjorie’s Almanac . 320 

Answer to a Child’s Question. 321 

What Does Little Birdie Say?. 321 

Little Orphant Annie . 322 

The Raggedy Man. 323 

The Man in the Moon. 325 

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. 326 

t 

Section V.—Handwork for the Little Ones. 

Part 1. — Play. 

Flying Butterflies, Birds, and Aeroplanes Made of 
Paper. 

Flying Butterflies. 328 

Flying Birds. 333 

The Aeroplane . 335 

Match-Box Toy Furniture. 

How to Make a Table for Dolly. 340 

Use the Unlettered Side of the Box. 340 

For Dolly’s Music Lesson. 342 

A Splendid Sofa for Dolly. 344 

Where Dolly Hangs Her Stockings. 345 

When the Sandman Comes Along. 347 

Furniture may be Painted any Color. 348 

Curious Cork Toys. 

The Farmer . 349 

The Little Dog. 352 

The Goose. 352 

The Farmer’s Wife. 353 

The Child. 353 

The Horse. 354 

The Cow. 354 

The Pig. 355 



































CONTENTS. 


xiii 

PAGE 

The Hippopotamus . 356 

The Alligator. 356 

Fairy Costumes and Game oe Newspaper. 

The Fairy Game. 357 

The Game of Newspaper Darts. 362 

Valentines—Without Paste or Glue. 

The Heart Valentine. 364 

The Bird Valentine. 368 

Heart Shower Valentine. 369 

Chicken Yard and Goose Pond. 

Paper Roosters and Little Chicks. 371 

Simple Rules for Feathers. 373 

Yellow and White Chickens . 374 

A Hen with a Hundred Chicks. 375 

How to Make a Turkey. 375 

A Pattern of a Goose. 376 

Geese and Ducks on a Glass Pond. 377 

Part 2. — Work. 

Sand and Clay Work. 

The Attractiveness of Mud Pies. 378 

A Sand Box for the Nursery. 378 

Even a Tin Tray will Do. 379 

Physical Culture for Wrists and Hands. 380 

Prepared Clay for Modeling. 380 

Pretty Pottery Designs. 381 

How to Make a Coil of Clay. 382 

Paper Folding and Cutting. 

Fascinating Kites and Boats. 386 

First Lessons in Paper Cutting. 387 

A Lesson in Cutting out Pictures. 388 

Cardboard Construction Work. 

Attractive Home-made Easter Gifts. 393 

How to Construct Trains of Cars. 394 

Paper Horses and Hay and Trees. 395 

Weaving. 

Material for Weaving in the Garden. 396 

How to Make the Weaving Frame. 396 

Home Spun Blankets for Dolly. 397 

A Rag Rug for a Doll House. 398 

































XIV 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

How to Weave a Wash-Cloth. 399 

Cord, Cloth and Candle-Wicking. 399 

Eeal Indian and Mexican Mats. 400 

Basketry. 

How Dainty Baskets are Made. 401 

How to Use Rattan and Raffia. 402 

Made with a Tapestry Needle. 403 

How Indians Use Raffia. 403 

Thirteen Spokes from the Center. 404 

Baskets for Flowers or Wood. 405 

How to Make a Basket Nest for a Bird. 405 

A Circular Mat for Dolly’s Table. 406 

Sewing. 

How to be a Doll’s Dressmaker. 406 

The Correct Way to Hold the Scissors. 407 

Rules for Threading the Needle. 407 

How to Begin. 408 

Over-Casting and Back-Stitching. 408 

How to Make a Bean Bag. 409 

Double-Brier and Herring-Bone . 410 

Materials Required . 412 

Section VI.—Suggestions for the Mother. 

Big Questions Asked by Little People. 

Questions on Birth . 417 

Questions on Death. 421 

Sun, Moon, and Stars. 425 

Water Question . 426 

Mythical Beings. 427 

The Dark . 428 

Animal Questions. 431 

Authority .•. 431 

Miscellaneous Questions . 433 






























INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES. 


NE of the characteristic features of modern civil¬ 
ization is the intense and world-wide interest in 
the training and development of children and 
youth. Never, in the history of the world, has there 
been such a widespread and universal desire to 
give the young every possible advantage of physical, 
mental, and moral equipment for the service of life 
as in the present time. And the end and aim of this 
training is not simply or chiefly the attainment of a 
material or commercial success, desirable as that may 
be, but rather the enrichment of the personal life — 
the development of the individual in all his powers 
for the attainment of character and for the widest 
possible influence. 

The most hopeful sign of all is the fact that 
parents are alive to the importance of their children’s 
education and training, and anxious that they should 
lay foundations upon which the structure of life can 
be built with credit and success. 

No education accomplishes its purpose which does 
not generate in the minds and hearts of the young a 
love for truth and righteousness, beauty and good¬ 
ness, purity and morality. The making of a scholar is 
good; the making of a Man is better: this is the pur¬ 
pose of education and religion—the meaning of Life. 

The instruction and discipline of the school is, of 
course, necessary and valuable. Every faculty of the 
child—the will, the memory, the reason, etc.—is to be 

xv 




XVI 


INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES. 


trained, disciplined, developed; but education does 
not begin nor end with the school. The years before 
“school age” are too valuable and precious to be 
wasted or neglected. Every child is entitled to the 
interest of his parents in the welfare of his body and 
mind. The little child is dependent and helpless. If 
any attempt is made to lay a foundation upon which 
the coming youth can construct his life, that attempt 
must be made by the parents. Happily, today these 
truths are generally recognized, and parents are eager 
to do their duty, and to fit themselves to do it intelli¬ 
gently and well. For such parents, as well as for their 
children, has this Library been prepared. 

The parent and the teacher can guide and direct, 
stimulate and arouse, inspire and instruct. But the 
child himself very early becomes a “seeker after 
knowledge,” and human history gives unbroken testi¬ 
mony to the mighty influence of a few good books in 
the home for the child’s own personal reading. The 
truth is, helpful books in the home are of vital im¬ 
portance—the most desirable of all acquisitions, 
without which poverty is written on all the walls. As 
Dr. Lyman Abbott has well said, “The home ought 
no more to be without a library than without dining¬ 
room or kitchen.” “No man,” said Mr. Beecher, “has 
a right to bring up his children without surrounding 
them with books if he has the means to buy. It is a 
wrong to his family. He cheats them. Children learn 
to read by being in the presence of books. The love of 
knowledge comes with reading and grows upon it, and 
the love of knowledge in a young mind is almost a \ 
warrant against the inferior excitement of passions 
and vices. ’ ’ 



INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES. 


xvn 


The Foundation Library For Young People has 
been prepared to render service in this great field of 
child education in its broadest and highest sense— 
“to inform the mind, stimulate ambition, elevate 
ideals, and create right and healthy views of life and 
conduct.’’ 

The work begins with the mother, whose responsi¬ 
bilities are only equalled by her great opportunities to 
mold the character of her children. The intelligent 
mother does not need advice so much as she needs 
help —real help—in dealing with the young life, and 
this has been furnished in a volume of great interest 
and value, The First Years of Childhood, whose pur¬ 
pose and plan is thoroughly outlined in the Editor’s 
introduction. 

As the child grows, the desire for knowledge in¬ 
creases—knowledge of himself, of the world in which 
he lives, of the great, puzzling universe, of Nature’s 
mysteries, of the beautiful and marvelous things that 
the skill and genius of man have produced in Art, in 
Literature, in Science. 

If he is to grow to be a Man—of clear vision, deep 
insight, wide sympathy, intelligent understanding, 
true appreciation, stability of purpose—he must 
“grow in knowledge,” even as did the Divine Pattern 
for all men, and his power and service in the world 
will be largely determined by the extent of his per¬ 
sonal equipment. 

So much is to be acquired during youth, if acquired 
at all, and the time is so very short that any agency 
that increases the opportunities to make the most of 
“the golden days of youth” is always sure of an ap¬ 
preciative welcome. 




xviii INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES. 

A careful examination of books published for the 
young both in America and abroad fully convinced the 
editors that no better service could be rendered to the 
present generation of children than to provide a con¬ 
structive and instructive Library of Education in 
which the growing mind will find new delight, con¬ 
stantly absorbing ideas which will be as lasting as life 
itself, and without which life is robbed of its greatest 
charm and incentive. The time seemed opportune to 
create a work of such educative and permanent value 
that parents, teachers, and the great army of men and 
women devoted to child welfare should have readily 
available, in concrete form, discussions of the prob¬ 
lems of childhood by recognized authorities. 

The Foundation Library is the result of devoted 
cooperation on the part of its Editors-in-Cliief to fur¬ 
nish to the young people of America a set of books 
appealing to every true impulse and ambition—mental, 
moral, physical, and social; to present a story of Man 
and his wonderful achievements so interesting and so 
inspiring as to grip the attention and stir the emo¬ 
tions ; to introduce young minds to the facts of Nature 
and of Life in a way not only to increase their knowl¬ 
edge, but to create within them a conscious desire to 
live in conformity with what is highest and best. 

No attempt has been made to make a “childish” 
book for children. The child is to be pitied whose 
nursery pap is continued so long that “Hi Diddle 
Diddle” and “Little Miss Muffett” will always re¬ 
main the standard of his literary appreciation. 
The fact is, children are far more capable of un¬ 
derstanding and comprehending than they are gener¬ 
ally given credit for. What they need is encouragement, 


INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES. 


xix 


stimulus, help, direction, along the lines they like and 
especially along those they are least inclined to pursue. 

Just this situation The Foundation Library is de¬ 
signed to meet, and its editors feel confident that 
thousands of the young people of America will cherish 
the memory of this work as one of the most valuable 
factors in the foundation period of their lives. 

George E. Rines. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The First Years of Childhood. 

A PARLEY WITH PARENTS. 

HE purpose of this book is to be a con¬ 
stant source of suggestion and assist¬ 
ance to the earnest mother and a joy to 
the little child. It is not an homily; 
there are no prescribed rules and regula¬ 
tions for the training or amusement of 
the child—merely a commonsense pre¬ 
sentment of simple methods, which, if in¬ 
telligently applied, will result in untold benefit to the 
fortunate little boy or girl whose mother reads aloud 
the stories, plays the little songs for flute-like voices 
to follow, puts the childish hands to work, joins in the 
joyous games—and truthfully answers the Big Ques¬ 
tions when they come. 

If we can crowd the first seven years of a child’s 
life with joy; if we can, in addition to teaching him 
the few moral lessons it is well for him to know, make 
him a hero worshiper; if we can develop a desire for 
physical strength and perfection, and for accomplish¬ 
ment of any piece of work undertaken; if we have 
taught him that both human and animal life are to be 
loved and their rights respected; then we shall have 
given him such a groundwork that, no matter what his 
subsequent environment, he will have something 
within him that will serve him well and faithfully and 
guide him in the years to come. 

HERO WORSHIP. 

You, Hero mother and hero father, stand for all 
that is good, kind, just, brave, and true. You are the 

1 



VOL. 1-1 










2 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


greatest hero in the eyes of your son and daughter— 
until you fall from your pedestal. Hence it behooves 
you to look well to your laurels while developing the 
plastic mind of the little one whom God has given you. 
One of the saddest sights of this world is the fall of 
the hero mother or hero father. When you bring a 
child into the world your first thought in each new 
predicament is to keep a tight rein upon yourself, lest 
little by little you slip from your pedestal, and the 
hero lies shattered before the wild, eager eyes of 
your child. 

Little by little, as the child grows older he learns 
that heroes are great in spite of their faults. 

Happy the parent who remains a hero to the end, 
and happy the child of that parent. 

The actual person who has really won his spurs is 
a greater hero than the mythological characters en¬ 
deared to the hearts of generations of story-tellers. 
If we could only remember that what Mother and 
Father do is good enough for the child, in the child’s 
estimation, we should have an improved generation of 
parents. 

UNDERSTANDING THE CHILD. 

Dear Mother, or whoever you are who read, let us 
understand the little children before another day 
passes. When we really understand them a bond will be 
established which nothing can break except we break 
faith with them —they will not break with us, for they 
will not know what breaking faith is unless we teach 
them by example. 

Once we realize the child viewpoint, we have taken 
a long step toward conquering ourselves and forming 
the character of our children. 

The child viewpoint is so far—so vastly far—re¬ 
moved from the adult; and yet the child follows in¬ 
stinct in looking out for his rights. Here is an 
illustration: 

A little boy of my acquaintance, four years old, 


INTRODUCTION. 


3 


went to the cellar a few days ago, and finding there a 
sickle he straightway went into the garden and severed 
the telephone wires which were fastened to the fence 
(luckily keeping whole fingers). It was the neighbor’s 
wire that was cut! Of course sufficient reproof was 
administered, but that any infringement of a neigh¬ 
bor’s rights had been made was scarcely understood. 
A day later, after the father and mother had made 
profuse apology for the defection of their small son, 
and also strenuous effort to have the company repair 
the telephone, the workman arrived. Little Son was 
in the yard. After a few minutes he rushed in to his 
mother, very wrathy. 

“I wish you’d go right out and send that horrid 
man home!” he cried. 

“Why?” asked his mother. 

“He—he called me a sassy boy!” cried Little Son 
hotly. 4 ‘ He’s a horrid man! ’ ’ 

“Were you saucy to him?” asked his mother. 
“What did you say to him?” 

“I didn’t talk to him,” said Little Son. “I want 
you to send him home. He’s in my yard.” 

“But why did he call you that, my son?” asked his 
mother. “Did you speak to him before?” 

“He asked if I was the boy who cut the wire,” said 
Little Son. “I wish you’d send the horrid man home 
out of my yard. ’ ’ 

“What did you tell him when he asked that?” said 
mother. 

“I told him it was none of his business!” said 
Little Son very frankly. “And he said I was a sassy 
boy. I wish you’d go out, mother, and send the horrid, 
rude man away! ’ ’ 

From the boy’s point of view he was the outraged 
person. Now, in the case of this youngster, instead of 
punishing him for a second offense, when according 
to his reasoning he was in the right, would it not be 
better for us to step into his shoes for a minute and 



4 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


see where this strange reasoning comes from; and 
then talk it out gently with him, be it ever so long a 
task, so that he will willingly make his apology, and 
he at peace with the world? 

ON PUNISHMENT. 

It is a well-known fact that anger and friction cause 
all sorts of physical trouble with children as well as 
with older people; and the root of the trouble is apt to 
he in the adult, not in the child. If we as adults can 
not control our tempers and our appetites, how can we 
expect that our miniatures shall do so? Let us stop 
to “ count twenty ” before we condemn, and we shall 
he better friends with our children. 

Let us he loving instead of fault-finding; let us 
love instead of criticize our children. Self respect is 
not developed by fault-finding, but by love and ad¬ 
miration and approbation. A child will soon learn to 
wish to do right if by trying to do it he wins love and 
approbation. Perhaps his trial is not directed right; 
perhaps if you were in his place you would think it 
cruel to be criticized when your intentions were good. 
Get into your child’s shoes often! And when errors 
are made, as they undoubtedly will be, let us remem¬ 
ber that a pint of oil accomplishes more than a gallon 
of vinegar. 

Let us try the peaceful treatment for all our trou¬ 
bles with the children; if we do this we shall find 
ourselves as well as our children repaid an hundred¬ 
fold. If we give out the spirit of peace we shall re¬ 
ceive it in return. If it is necessary to shout to a 
child, it indicates that peace has not been within the 
parent from the beginning of the training. It doubt¬ 
less amuses the child to have the parent display pas¬ 
sion; for he knows instinctively that just so often as 
passion is displayed, by just that much has he become 
the master of the situation. Inherent in every child 
is the desire for physical mastery. If this lias been 


INTRODUCTION. 


5 


tempered by love from the time of his birth, it gradu¬ 
ally assumes the form of a better and nobler aspira¬ 
tion—the desire for mastery through the mind. 

Let us love —let us forget how to criticize and to 
nag, but let us feel that there is peace between us and 
our children, such a peace and such a communion that 
nothing is too trivial, too great, too holy, to share 
together. 

Much has been written about the parent keeping 
the child as an intimate friend, so that the mother 
shall be the confidante and helper. How can any 
mother expect to be the confidante of her child if she 
continually criticizes every action? A good example 
is worth twice as much as continual criticism! If 
mother finds fault what is the use of telling her things? 
Ah, but if she loves and sympathizes and helpfully 
suggests, how can the child get along without her opin¬ 
ion and help at every turn ? 

Not long ago, I heard a little girl say, “Oh, I didn’t 
tell mother that V 7 

“Why not?” I asked. 

“Oh, you know mother’s funny and won’t under¬ 
stand,” was the answer. 

Yes, I knew: Mother was “funny”—she was 
shocked at the little innocent pleasures of her small 
daughter because they were not like those she used to 
have—and she lived in the past. The child had found 
by experience that everything she did was criticized, 
and therefore she had learned to keep things to her¬ 
self, or to confide in a sympathetic and helpful person. 

In another family, where there was a hypercritical 
though loving mother, there was a father who loved 
and gave peace to his children. The third child—a 
boy—was the apple of his mother’s eye: the two girls 
had soon learned that the criticisms and nagging of 
their mother made her an undesirable “best friend.” 
The father and the girls were inseparable. As the 
little boy grew, he also felt the influence of unselfish 



G THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


love, and he slipped slowly but surely away from his 
mother and joined his sisters in their worship of the 
father. The mother grieved and found fault with his 
defection, and said the children were all “spoiled” by 
the father. The children and the father were happy 
together—the mother was an outsider. And all be¬ 
cause of the defects of the children and of the father, 
she thought! She felt she had always done her duty; 
that she had the right to criticize and to find fault. 

The parent has only one Right—the right to love. 
Any love that is not unselfish love is Wrong. 

There is a chance even for those who have begun 
wrong—although the struggle may be hard. It is the 
suppression of all the distorted notions of times gone 
by, and the substitution of Love. That is the only 
hope. If love is persisted in, it will triumph. 

FAIR PLAY. 

Is there more than one code of honor—or should 
the child be taught that a lie is a lie, that a broken 
promise is a broken promise, that stealing is stealing, 
that discourtesy is discourtesy? If there be but one 
code of honor, then it is well for us adults to look to 
our laurels. Our little subterfuges are so nearly like 
the fibs for which our children are punished; our 
promises to our children, so lightly broken with intent, 
are so similar to their promises broken usually 
through childish forgetfulness; our appropriation of 
their property is so similar to their appropriation of 
whatever attracts their eyes; our discourtesies to 
them bear such a resemblance to their discourtesies 
to one another and to their elders! 

Surely, it is well for us to look to our laurels. Can 
heroes lie, or break promises, or steal, or be anything 
but courteous? 

Let us play fair. The child is but a miniature adult, 
and if the code of honor is to be established in the 
young mind, let it be the miniature of our code: and 


introduction: 


7 


if our code is lax let us take ourselves in hand before 
we demand much of the child. Let us learn as little 
children with the child, if necessary. 

Very, very early in the child’s life should we sow 
the seeds of the right code of honor, of respect, of 
morality, of magnanimity, of industry, of affection, of 
all the good qualities that we wish our children to fall 
heir to in after life. 

The salvation of the child is a foregone conclusion 
if in his early years he has the benefit of a wise and 
loving counselor of whom he is neither afraid nor 
ashamed. 

THE JOY OF LIVING-. 

How often nowadays one hears the expression, in 
reference to some sour and disagreeable person, “the 
trouble with him is that he has no sense of humor.” 

Poor man! His is indeed a deplorable state; but 
perhaps his parents are responsible for not encourag¬ 
ing mirth in his youth. 

Perhaps there are few persons who know that we 
have more muscles in the face for use in laughing than 
we have for use in crying. These muscles need to be 
kept in good working order, as do the body muscles; 
if they are not kept limber by laughter, as they were 
intended to be, they will harden; and following the 
hardening of the muscles the lines of the face will 
harden and grow old. Encourage laughter from little 
lips. Make jokes for the children—do not discourage 
their mirth over what may seem to you trivial and 
pointless; laugh a little yourself, even if there he 
nothing to laugh at: it will help you as well as help 
the children—for some of your muscles have doubtless 
already become hardened for lack of proper mirth. 

If a child fails to appreciate a simple joke, there is 
something wrong that should be righted at once. The 
cultivation of a fine sense of humor is a duty; every 
parent should feel called upon to encourage the devel¬ 
opment of this essential sense; also a spirit of mirth. 



8 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Many a hard situation in life is harmlessly passed 
with the help of a sense which can make humor out 
of calamity. 

This does not mean to regard serious subjects 
lightly, for that is almost as deplorable as a lack of 
humor. An evenly balanced temperament is much to 
be desired: one that will be as ready to sympathize 
as to laugh. Let us help the children especially to 
make light of their own troubles; to cast worry to the 
four winds of heaven; to forget the defections of the 
past in resolving to meet with equanimity like situa¬ 
tions in the future, and to turn past defection into 
future perfection. 

THE UNFOLDING OF THE FLOWER. 

The relation of the parent to the child can make or 
mar a life. We are apt to look upon the moral duty 
of the child to the mother and entirely neglect the 
moral duty of the mother to the child. Because the 
mother is “grown-up” she ‘ 4 knows best” in all things, 
with no word of explanation. Frequently the mother 
does not know best on the spur of the moment ; if she 
would take time to go reasonably to the bottom of 
things, the problems of life would not only be much 
simpler for her but for her child. It is the unfolding 
of the little flower that makes for its full blossoming 
and fruition—not the keeping of the bud in its sleep¬ 
ing state. It is the “Why!’’ of the child which unfolds 
the little mental flower bit by bit. If your child does 
not ask “Why, mother!” and get a response, it is very 
probable that his little brain will figure out its own 
answer, which may be wrong, and that wrong start 
may be responsible for much suffering in after life. 

THE BOOK ITSELF. 

It is not within the scope of this book to go far into 
the question of the physical welfare of the child, nor 
deeply into the moral and mental welfare. Therefore, 


INTRODUCTION. 


9 


with the hope that the suggestions already made may 
be of benefit, we pass on to the contents. 

STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 

In Section One we have endeavored to present a 
few old favorites together with various new stories, in 
a concise and understanding way, so that the reader 
need be at little or no trouble to explain the meaning 
of word or phrase. So many whose pleasure and duty 
it is to talk to children are not natural-born story¬ 
tellers, the editor has thought it would be of benefit 
to receive a few suggestions from a professional 
whose many years of experience, both in telling stories 
and in writing them, have given her a wide insight 
into the heart of the child. Miss Nora Archibald 
Smith, a kindergartener of note as well as an author 
and co-author with her sister, Mrs. Kate Douglas 
Wiggin Riggs, has very successfully told stories to 
children, east and west. The mere reading of a story 
to a child is not enough. If you would be an accom¬ 
plished reader and story-teller, you must enter into 
the spirit of it in tone, meaning, and gesture. The 
selection of stories includes the grave and the gay, 
fairy tales and folk-lore, stories of home and of for¬ 
eign lands, stories of heroes and Bible favorites— 
something to please every whim. 

NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 

The love of animals and the desire to protect them 
is a very important factor in child education. If a 
child’s mind is interested in the life of animals and 
the life of nature, he has a sound foundation for the 
future. Nature teaches so many valuable lessons, les¬ 
sons which are absorbed with interest by the young 
mind without the thought of study, that many educators 
and physicians agree that a child is not harmed if 
allowed to run in the country, without schooling, until 
he is seven. Fortunate child, if he may! Miss Clara 


10 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


D. Pierson, a careful nature student as well as a 
natural story-teller, gives facts in delightful form. 

PLAYS AND GAMES. 

Section Three is not only amusement pure and sim¬ 
ple but it is instruction and exercise as well. If played 
with intelligently, the little baby not only acquires 
knowledge and amusement, but exercise as well—a 
very desirable combination. Those baby plays, fol¬ 
lowed by the physical exercises, are wonderfully good 
for children. Every healthy child demands activity. 
How much better to prepare physical activity than to 
say, “Don’t bother me now,” to the child’s request 
for help. Mrs. Maude Burnham Shannon, who has 
absorbed much of Froebel’s wonderful sympathy, has 
given the babies their due; Miss Marion Bromley 
Newton, Supervisor of Physical Training in the 
schools of Rochester, New York, has prepared the 
physical exercises; and Mrs. Mary White Talbot, 
whose creative work in amusement games has brought 
her to the front rank, has devised the new games. 

VERSE AND MUSIC. 

The value of music in the home can scarcely be ex¬ 
aggerated. Only a glimpse of its possibilities with the 
youngster can be given in these pages. But a song 
once endeared to the child remains forever dear, and 
repetition enhances its value. It is the same with 
verses. There is something inexpressibly pleasing to 
the child in the rhythm of the verse, be it grave or 
gay; the pity is that this influence should not hold for 
a lifetime. It should hold if the selection be good, and 
that is our hope in presenting Section Four. 

HAND WORK. 

No more entertaining amusement can be provided 
for children than work. But we must not call it work, 
for that good old-fashioned term long ago fell into 
disuse except for hard toil! 

Hand work of any kind is valuable in that it trains 


INTRODUCTION. 


11 


the eyes and the mind, as well as the hands. It en¬ 
courages patience and perseverance, neatness, and a 
desire to create, all of which are very valuable in the 
forming of the child character. The desirability of 
keeping little fingers out of mischief, and little minds 
from thinking crooked, is obvious. Keep the child 
occupied, by all means; hut train him so far as possi¬ 
ble to do the hand work by himself, so that he shall 
acquire the habit of self entertainment. With a little 
help children can readily make all the attractive work- 
and-play articles which the Misses Adelia and Lina 
Beard—who stand first in this work in the world— 
and Miss Caroline Sherwin Bailey, whose experience 
has extended over years of kindergarten and manual 
training work, have so ably prepared for them in Sec¬ 
tion Five. 

ANSWERS TO BIG QUESTIONS. 

Section Six is devoted to a very big question in the 
child world—the why and wherefore. If your child 
has not already begun to question, it is but a matter of 
days when the little soul will awaken to the wonders 
of the world. When that time arrives, you need to be 
prepared. Wise is the mother who, without previous 
thought, can truthfully and gently answer the myriad 
questions that every healthy child must ask. Mrs. 
Della Thompson Lutes, who has helped thousands of 
mothers to meet the predicament, has given, in “An¬ 
swers to Big Questions Asked by Little People,” a 
common-sense, comprehensive review of the questions 
likely to come, and the truthful answers that may be 
made to little people. Blessed be the mother who, 
without impatience, gratifies the desire for knowledge 
expressed by the awakening soul of the little child! 
#####**** 

Thanks are due to these kind helpers, and also to 
Mrs. Rossiter Johnson, and Mrs. Mary Newbold Stan¬ 
ford and her small daughter, for assistance with the 
music section. 


Katharine Newbold Birdsall. 


The Art of Story-Telling. 

THE MOTHER AS A STORY-TELLER. 

$P|SpO address an audience upon a subject in which 
all the members are especially interested, and 
with which they are all more or less familiar, 
is always a delight, for it means that the introduction 
has been made and the preliminary steps taken before 
the orator mounts the platform. 

So in speaking to women on the art of story-telling 
we treat of one in which they are already more or 
less proficient and one which is their peculiar in¬ 
heritance. Eve told stories, no doubt, to little Cain 
and Abel, and Noah’s wife, whose name, poor woman, 
was not considered of sufficient value to hand down 
to posterity, must by dint of practice have become a 
proficient story-teller during all those rainy evenings 
while sailing in the Ark. For those small brothers 
of long-ago, Shem and Ham and Japhetli, quite like 
children of today, must have looked out with wonder¬ 
ing eyes from that one little window of their ship of 
refuge upon the world about them, and longed to have 
its secrets interpreted, to know what the waves whis¬ 
pered and the winds sang and the stars twinkled, what 
the dove’s coo meant and the lion’s roar. 

And today, in the Ark of every nursery, safely 
sheltered, warm, and love-surrounded, modern little 
Sliems and Hams and Japhetlis are raising the old 
plea, “Tell us a story, oh, tell us a story!” 

Women have always responded to this plea to the 
measure of their individual ability, but they have 
looked upon their task artisan-wise, perhaps, more 
than as artists, and have not fully recognized the 
depth and breadth of the need they were supplying, nor 
the various purposes which it was destined to serve. 

12 




THE ART OF STORY-TELLING. 


13 


What women do instinctively in the training of 
children is, generally speaking, grounded in truth, for 
the instinct has grown from ages of motherhood-ex¬ 
perience. With the instinct of story-telling it is a 
question of demand and supply. We tell stories to 
children when they plead for them, with some degree 
of ease and pleasure, because it is an inherited ability 
drawn from our fore-motliers, but not many of us 
strive to improve that ability, nor to develop the 
natural gift into a conscious art. 

For this reason, among a myriad of others just 
as cogent, I believe that a course of kindergarten train¬ 
ing should be an integral part of the education of every 
young woman. In the kindergarten training school 
she learns what story-telling is and what it should 
be, is given practical experience in the telling of 
stories both in verse and prose, and is taught where 
to find and how to adapt them. 

This knowledge can not but be valuable to her what¬ 
ever her future, for though she be not blessed with 
children of her own, yet there remains a host of small 
unfortunates, ill, lonely, deserted, unhappy, neglected, 
and unfortunate, who are in unceasing need of her 
ministrations. 

SOME THINGS TO BE CONSIDERED. 

Let me tell you, as briefly as I may, what I can 
of this wonderful art of story-telling, this art as old 
as the beginning of speech, and yet newly recognized 
and lifted to its place among its sister-arts. 

The story is, to begin with, at once literature and 
the drama to the child, and is invariably enjoyed and 
appreciated when it is of a suitable length and has a 
fitting subject. 

I do not say when it is well-told, because, though 
that is a great addition to the tales it is, and we may 
be thanked for it, really not an essential. The 
imagination of the child in early years is so abundant, 


14 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and flows so freely that it triumphs over external de¬ 
fects of presentation and reaches the heart of things. 

Though this is undoubtedly the case with one child 
or with a small company of children, it is not true, as 
practise soon teaches us, of a large group, which needs 
the magnetism of personality to hold it and real 
artistry in the setting forth of incidents. 

Sir Richard Steele was undoubtedly right when he 
said long ago that the true story-teller, like the poet, 
is born, not made; yet if we be not conscious of a fairy 
godmother’s gift in this direction, and it so chances 
that story-telling to a large group of children is forced 
upon us, then there are certain points which we must 
needs remember in practicing our art. 

And first we must consider carefully the position 
of the auditors. They should be comfortable, of 
course; that goes without saying, but we must beware 
of setting the flint child by the steel child lest sparks 
be struck ere the opening of the tale. 

The youngest children should be kept near at hand, 
that the influence of personality be more strongly felt, 
and the restless, vagrant-minded ones sandwiched in 
between those of calm, reflective temperament. If the 
children are quite unused to hearing stories, the sub¬ 
ject of the narrative presented in the concrete will fre¬ 
quently serve to concentrate attention in the begin- 
ing—showing the doll that once was lost, for instance, 
the bird’s nest found in the orchard, or the rocking- 
horse that ran away. If the object be not forthcom¬ 
ing, it may be modelled from a lump of clay while 
the story flows on, a device especially pleasing to a 
youthful audience. Blackboard drawings, too, are 
valuable as first aids to attention, either made while 
the tale is in progress or prepared beforehand and 
covered with sheets of brown paper till the psycholog¬ 
ical moment arrives for showing them. < 

The story-teller should consider the question of 
gestures, too, for these, if appropriate and expressive, 


15 


THE ART OF STORY-TELLING. 

serve to illuminate the tale to the younger hearers. 
The style in which the narrative is clothed need not 
be monosyllabic, for the child seems to enjoy the music 
of new and strange words, but it should be clear and 
as picturesque as may be within the story-teller’s 
power. 

The voice should be varied as much as possible and 
really dramatic, now rising to mark a thrilling episode, 
now sinking to softness. All these things the artist 
achieves by the light of nature, aided by experience, 
but many of them may be practiced most successfully 
by the artisan. 

THE VALUE OF STORY-TELLING. 

Froebel, to whose devoted love of and insight into 
child-nature we owe the kindergarten, advised that 
mothers should begin singing to and talking to the 
baby in his earliest days, for long before speech 
begins, he assures us, understanding is present. 
‘ 4 Music and rhyme are among the earliest pleasures 
of the child, as they are of the race,” said Emerson, 
and women know this instinctively as they know a 
great many other things they have never consciously 
learned. “Mother Goose” is one of the most valuable 
of nursery helpers at this early stage of life, and we 
may be certain that her rhymes have survived because 
they were fitted to do so. “They are smooth stones 
from the brook of time,” says Andrew Lang, “worn 
round by the constant friction of tongues long silent, ’ ’ 
and we may be certain that we shall never be able to 
supply their place, for the world has grown too old 
to sing and rhyme, to dance and skip in this merry, 
careless, unthinking way. 

By repeating simple rhymes and singing songs 
to the child in these early days we gratify his delight 
in rhyme and rhythm, of musical lilt and swinging 
syllables, and prepare him, among other things, for 
a love of poetry which is a valuable asset in education, 


16 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and if it comes late, comes exceedingly liard. We give 
him, too, the listening ear and the beginnings, at least, 
of the habit of concentration without which education 
is impossible. The child of five or six years who is 
utterly indifferent to everything else may sometimes 
be magnetized by the music of verse and this is even 
more true of the toddler in the nursery. 

This is one of the great values of story-telling, that 
it encourages concentration, but we shall see that it 
confers many other practical benefits. 

It develops the imagination, which is the beginning 
of science and the absolute basis of the spiritual life, 
as well as the pivot of social intercourse. 

It widens the sympathies through directing atten¬ 
tion to other lives, other conditions, other creatures 
and other lands. 

It strengthens the bonds of fellowship through 
comprehension, and teaches that we are all members 
of one social world. 

And then it has very positive and practical results 
in later school work. The child who has been ac¬ 
customed to have prose and poetry repeated to him 
from his earliest years not only hears better than chil¬ 
dren who have not been so fortunate, but speaks better, 
with a fuller and more choice vocabulary, has a better 
modulated voice and reads aloud more musically. 

He already has, too, a small stock of information 
on a great variety of subjects, which forms an ad¬ 
mirable basis for learning more, and further than this, 
he has, we believe, a real desire to learn, since he has 
found the knowledge of grown people so delightful 
a thing. 

We tell the stories, you observe, not read them, be¬ 
cause thus they seem more real to the child. It is not 
best, we find, to interpose a printed page at this early 
age between the speaker and the hearer. It is, as 
somebody says, like playing the piano-forte with mit¬ 
tens on, and obscures the melody. 


THE ART OF STORY-TELLING. 


17 


Later, when the child has gained more concentra¬ 
tion and is better able to understand the meaning of 
words we can read to him with great advantage, but 
at first, to ensure comprehension, he needs to watch 
the speaking eye and the changing expression of the 
story-teller, which things would be hidden from him 
by the book. 

WHAT KIND OF STORIES TO TELL. 

But we are not to restrict ourselves in this line of 
story-telling to “Mother Goose,” or to nursery ditties 
in general, for the child is early able to understand 
bits of real poetry, if his ear has been trained to listen, 
and we shall find as we progress in our self-culture 
as story-tellers, that the greatest poets have not dis¬ 
dained to speak to the little one in our midst. 

From simple verse we progress to brief tales in 
prose concerning the household pets, perhaps—the 
animals in the barn-yard and the wood, little brothers 
in feathers and fur who become dearer to the child 
when he begins to understand their lives and something 
of their feelings. Such tales must be very brief, it 
is understood, for the limit of attention is not more 
than two or three minutes in these early years, and 
we must be careful not to overtax it. 

Stories of other children, too, are valuable at this 
time, and anecdotes beginning “When I was a little 
girl,” or “When father was a little boy,” are phrases 
that seem to have a kind of hypnotic charm for little 
people. 

A great German educator maintains that children 
from three to six years old should be told fables and 
nothing but fables, but here a word of protest seems 
necessary. 

The fable is an ancient form of literature which 
is delightful to children because it deals with animals 
gifted with miraculous powers of speech and action. 
It is valuable, too, because of the element of humor 

Vol. 1—2 


18 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


it embodies, one which is too often lacking in juvenile 
tales, but not all fables are by any means suitable for 
the ears of little people. Clever and witty as they are, 
their satire is frequently too sharp, their wit too 
pungent for babes, while the lessons they often in¬ 
culcate, of prudence, worldly wisdom, and distrust of 
human nature are assuredly not for youthful minds. 

No such objection, however, can be made to fairy¬ 
tales, which, as Howard Pyle says, are as wholesome 
as apples and as sweet as milk. Not only are they 
admirably well-told, not only is a knowledge of their 
themes indispensable to an appreciation of mature 
literature, but they have a marked ethical value. The 
hero of the fairy tale invariably has all the simple 
virtues appropriate to childhood; he is brave, he is 
kind, he is obedient, he is truthful, and he is loving. 
The child sees in the hero his model, and he sees, too, 
in the inevitable punishment of wrong-doing, in the 
triumph of the good over every obstacle, the ideal 
toward which the soul is born to aspire. 

The myth is as essential to intellectual and spiritual 
development as is the fairy tale. It has been wisely 
said that the child who knows mythology and folk¬ 
tales in the years when their rich material comes to 
him simply as stories, lives in and breathes the air of 
the childhood of the race and is awakened in imagina¬ 
tion and stimulated in observation long before he is 
aware that he is being educated. There are admirable 
collections of these myths, issued now by many pub¬ 
lishers, and we cannot go wrong in selecting tales for 
the older children from their pages. Librarians in 
our Children’s Libraries all over the country are now 
telling myths to the little people, and report that since 
their introduction a wonderful change has been 
noticed in the character of the books sought and read 
by the children of the cities. 

Nor must we forget the historical stories in con¬ 
sidering the many branches of juvenile literature at 


THE ART OF STORY-TELLING. 


19 


our command. These may be begun in simple fashion 
in the kindergarten—at least as far as the nation’s 
heroes are concerned, and serve even at this early date 
in laying the foundations upon which in future days 
the stately pile of history may rest. 

And then there are the great dramatic stories 
of the Bible, all too seldom told by the fireside 
now-a-days. Whatever be the parent’s creed, or lack 
of creed, the power and the beauty of these narratives 
is not to be gainsaid, and laying aside all question 
of their religious value their worth remains as an 
important factor in literature. There are numerous 
editions to be had today of stories from the Old and 
New Testaments adapted to the comprehension of 
even the youngest children, and the mother who doubts 
her powers of adaptation from the originals can find 
all her needs supplied in these volumes. 

When children have outgrown/ babyhood the won¬ 
der-tales of science come in play and each one, if given 
aright, will waken in the little one a tender reverence 
for everything that lives and grows about him and a 
worship for the wise God who made and lovetli all. 
Such stories should be bright, simple, and direct, not 
told in the form of allegory or fairy-tale, but, con¬ 
veying positive information in a simple, scientific way, 
and information that is accurate and will never have 
to be unlearned. Nor need we fear that told in this 
fashion they will be dry and unattractive. The child 
has an inexhaustible interest in the world that sur¬ 
rounds him, and eagerly seeks for explanations of the 
mysteries of life and growth. 

THE ESSENTIALS OF THE MODEL STORY. 

If we were asked to specify the essentials of a 
model story for children we should say that it must 
first have a good beginning and a good ending, and 
then that it must be suitable in subject, length, and 
style. As to the first of these essentials there should 


20 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


be no long preambles or introductions in a story for 
children. It should start off at once wherever it is 
going with cracking whip and galloping horses and— 
here comes in the ending—should arrive at its destina¬ 
tion punctually and without undue delay. We must 
never leave the hero in the style of the modern novel, 
in a hopeless position at the end. A tale for little 
children must end definitely and end well, else there 
may be troubled sleep and the working of the delicate 
mechanism of the brain be disturbed. 

The subject and length of the story have already 
been dealt with, though a footnote may be added on 
the latter point. Children of cultivated parents who 
are accustomed to hearing stories can, of course, listen 
to them a longer time than those whose ears and brain 
are quite untrained, yet there is always danger in 
overstepping the limits of attention and it is as well 
to be on the safe side in these matters. It will be found 
that for very young children five minutes gives room 
for a really stirring tale with the three dramatic 
requirements of Aristotle: beginning, middle, and end. 

There remains but one essential of the model story, 
its style, and here we must remember that we are in 
the position, as story-tellers, of models of English, 
and models on which the young Americans of the 
future will form themselves, whether we will or not. 

Let us endeavor, then, to use the best of English 
in our narratives, and to use it in the best of ways, 
to cultivate beautiful diction and expression, knowing 
that they are so many helps in making impressions 
upon that mind of the child which is wax to receive, 
but marble to retain. 


SECTION I. 

Stories to Read and to Tell. 


IJP 13 HAVE endeavored in the stories that follow to 
4L give in the simple language that appeals to chil- 
dren, as great a variety as is possible in a few 
pages. Each story was selected for a special purpose; 
each story has its own particular good points; and 
each story will doubtless make a different appeal to 
each child. 

We have here a taste of the Bible, of fable, legend, 
folk-tale, myth, history, humor, fairy tale, picture 
story, hero tale, and child and animal life. 

From this collection it will be easy to trace the 
bent of a child, and to follow later with books to please 
his or her special taste. 

Katharine Newbold Birdsall. 


Kriss Kringle’s Visit. 

LITTLE boy stood shivering in the snow out- 
side of a poor little cottage. Inside the house 
W as a very sick father, a dear mother who had 
to work very hard, and four brothers and sisters. It 
was Christmas time, but there was no money to buy 
gifts because the father had been ill for so long. Only 
that very day the dear mother had told them, with 
tears in her eyes, that not even a grain of rice had she 
to spare to make a fancy rice cake for their Christmas. 

“We must be thankful that we have potatoes to 
,eat,” she said. “Some day when father gets well, 
perhaps we shall have a great Christmas like we used 
to have. ’ 1 




21 



22 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“But mother,” said little Karl, “Kriss Kringle 
will surely come. He loves the little poor children as 
well as the rich, does he not? I know he loves me, 
for last year he left a pair of gloves in my shoe, be¬ 
sides giving me a sled. I shall put my shoe out, and I 
know old Kriss will put something in it. I hope it will 
he a fur cap.” 

“Let us wait till next year,” said the mother. 
“Kriss has so many children to give presents to, that 
I fear he can not get here in time. But if we are patient 
till next year, when the dear father shall be well, 
things will be different.” 

But little Karl could not wait till the next year, and 
so he stole out in the snowy evening to leave his shoe 
near the door, as his mother did when she was little. 

All that night the snow came down, and covered the 
earth like a soft white blanket; little Karl thought to 
himself that old Kriss Kringle would surely have a 
hard time traveling in the storm; but of course his 
brave reindeer would bring him safely through. 

And all through the night the shoe was out by the 
door, protected by the little roof over the doorstep, all 
dry and safe and ready for Kriss Kringle’s gift when 
he should come through the storm. 

The next morning Karl awoke when the sun was 
trying to peep through the snowflakes, and downstairs 
he stole quietly to look in his shoe. 

“Poor little mannie,” said his mother softly. “Run, 
Sophie and Margot, so you may comfort him—for I 
know his shoe is empty. * ’ 

So Sophie and Margot ran down and helped Karl 
open the door. 

There was the little shoe just where he had left it 
the night before. 

Sophie was the tallest, and she could see inside of 
it before the others could. 

‘ ‘ Why—why—why—look! ’’ she cried. 4 ‘ Karlie, 
there is the fur cap you wanted inside the shoe! Kriss 
Kringle has been here!’ ’ 


STOEIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


23 


Sure enough, there it was—a brown fur cap. 

‘‘I knew he would come l” cried Karl. 44 Oh, mother, 
come quick and see, ’ ’ he called. So down mother came, 
and Karl put his hand in the shoe to pull the cap out. 

And what do you think? Under his hand he felt a 
little beat—beat—beat, as he touched the fur. 

“My cap is alive!” he cried; and taking the shoe 
he ran into the kitchen out of the snow, followed by the 
others. 

There, cuddled cosy and warm in the shoe, was a 
tiny rabbit, its little heart beating with fright. 

Tenderly Karl took it in his arms, and warmed it, 
gently stroking its fur. His eyes were shining happily. 

“I knew Kriss Kringle would come/’ he said. 

“You were right,’’ said his sisters, “although it is 
not a cap.” 

“It is far better than a cap,” said Karl. “I love 
,the dear Kriss Kringle bunny. ’ ’ 

Mother only smiled and said: “It was given to you 
to take care of, and to keep safe from harm.” 


The White Rabbit. 

HEN I was a little girl we used to have a jolly 
old Irish cook who dearly loved children. And 
what do you suppose she made for us? Why, 
the sweetest little pies in pattypans, with crumply 
brown ruffles of crust all round them. And inside there 
was sometimes strawberry jam, and sometimes apple¬ 
sauce. When it was strawberry jam there was no top 
to the pie except nice little crispy strips like lattice 
work. When it was apple inside, it was covered with 
a nice puffy brown crust that was fluted all around. 
Oh, how good those pies were! I wish you could taste 
one! 

But this story is not about pies, it is about a rabbit. 

One day little Kate skipped downstairs before 
breakfast, and old Catherine told her to run out into 





24 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


the yard. So out she ran, her brown curls dancing 
merrily. 

And the first thing that she spied, peeking out from 
under a big red geranium, was a piece of brown paper. 
Little Kate’s bright eyes saw it and thinking it might 
be something left by the fairies, she pulled it out. 

Lo and behold, it was a paper bag with something 
in it! By that time Nell, her sister, had come out; 
and between them they opened the bag. And there, all 
snug and clean, were two beautiful fresh buns, with 
currants poking out of their fat sides, and a thick glaze 
of sugar over the top. 

“One for you, and one for me!” shouted Kate. 
“Oh Catherine, see what we have found. How did that 
ever get there!” 

Catherine came to the door, wiping her hands on 
her apron. 

“Sliure, it’s the rabbit!” she cried in a surprised 
voice. 

“The rabbit!” echoed the little girls. “What 
rabbit!” 

“Why, the good white rabbit,” said Catherine. 

“Where is he!” asked Kate. 

“Sliure he comes at night to see good gurrls,” said 
the cook, “and he often laves prisints for them. Ate 
it now and see how good it is.” 

You may be sure they ate the buns with much 
relish. 

Kate picked out the raisins to save till the very 
last, and began at the bottom and nibbled slowly up to 
the top. Nell began at one side and ate right through 
till there was nothing left either of raisins or sugar 
or bun. 

And you may be sure that the little girls looked for 
that kind white rabbit, for they wished to thank him. 
But although they looked every day, and in every place 
they could think of, not even a whisker could they find. 

But they found something else—not every day, but 
once in a while, One day after luncheon, tucked in a 



STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


25 


crotch in the little peach tree, something caught the 
children’s eyes; and with a shout they danced toward 
the tree. There, neatly wedged in, was another little 
paper hag, and inside of it were two dear little 
molasses cakes, round and fluted and warm. Oh, how 
delicious those cakes were! 

“They’re warm as if they had just come from the 
oven,” declared Nell. 

“I believe the bunny bakes them himself,” said 
Kate, “and runs here fast before they can cool off.” 

And one day, right under the lilac bush, they found 
another little paper bag, and in it were two delicious 
brown doughnuts, all crispy and sugary! 

“That dear white rabbit!” cried Kate as she 
munched her doughnut. “I wish we could find him.” 

A few days later, hidden in the morning-glory vine, 
was another little paper bag; and snug inside of it 
were some ginger cookies, each with a little round 
chocolate candy on top. 

After awhile the weather began to get cold, and 
the visits of the rabbit were very few; finally they 
stopped entirely. 

“Perhaps the poor bunny is cold,” suggested Nell. 
“Let’s make him a little coat.” So the two little girls 
made a red flannel blanket coat for their unseen friend, 
and printed a little note to go with it, thanking him 
for all his cakes. Then they hung the blanket and the 
note on the lowest branch of the little peach tree. 

And what do you suppose? The little blanket dis¬ 
appeared while the children were asleep, and in its 
place there was a dear little envelope, and inside the 
envelope, in very fancy writing, it said: 

‘ ‘ Dear little girls: 

I must go away. Thank you for the lovely coat. I 
will come back next Easter. Good-bye, 

White Rabbit.” 

Nell and Kate treasured that little letter for 
months, and if it had not been for helping Catherine 


26 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


in the kitchen, they would have been lonesome indeed 
for their friend, the white rabbit. 

Catherine went back to Ireland late in the winter, 
after shedding many tears at parting with the little 
girls; and Nell and Kate went to school. 

Sad to say, the white rabbit did not keep his 
promise. 

“I hope he did not get caught by some cruel 
hunter,’’ said Nell sadly. 

“You know what I think?” said Kate. “I think 
he’s so busy looking after the baby bunnies that he 
can’t get away. ’ ’ 

And perhaps that was the explanation, for never 
again did the children find in the garden any nice little 
paper bags with sweeties inside. 


Bob the Faithful. 

^MWTIINK how surprised the conductor on the train 
fejM to Cooperstown must have been when he saw 
ahead of him, sitting on a cushioned seat in the 
passenger coach as dignified as a judge, a great shaggy 
black dog. 

“You’ll have to take your dog to the baggage car,” 
said the conductor to the man in the seat behind. 

“He isn’t mine,” said the man, and he smiled. 

“The dog ’ll have to go to the baggage car,” said 
the conductor to the man across the aisle. 

“He doesn’t belong to me,” said this man, also 
smiling. 

“Dogs not allowed in this car,” said the conductor 
to the woman in the seat in front. 

“Ill teach you to call me a dog!” cried the old 
woman angrily, raising her umbrella. And then she 
saw Bob in the seat behind. “Oh,” she said, “isn’t 
he beautiful? I wish he belonged to me. ’ ’ 

“Well, whose is he?” asked the conductor. 





STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


27 


“He came in alone,” said the man behind. “See, 
his ticket is fastened to his collar.” 

Sure enough, it was; he was to go to Cooperstown; 
and his name was Bob. 

4 4 Come on to the baggage car, ’ ’ said the conductor, 
taking hold of his collar. But Bob had no idea of 
leaving his seat; his ticket was bought, and he evi¬ 
dently considered himself plenty good enough to ride 
just where he was. 

Over and over the conductor tried to move him; 
but Bob remained fixed. The only sign he gave was 
to smile so that his teeth showed; or were those open 
lips merely to show the conductor that he had weapons 
with which to enforce his rights if necessary? 

Bob did not go to the baggage car. He stayed 
just where he was till the train approached Coopers¬ 
town. He enjoyed his ride hugely, looking out of the 
window most of the time. And he even unbent from 
his dignity enough to accept a piece of peanut candy 
from the woman in front. 

When Cooperstown was reached the conductor 
said to the brakeman: 

“You’ll have to help me put that dog off here— 
his ticket is to Cooperstown.” 

As they approached the seat from behind, the dog, 
apparently knowing where he was going, jumped down 
and made his way to the front door. 

44 He is certainly able to take care of himself,” said 
the surprised conductor. 4 4 Did you ever see the like 
of that? He heard you call Cooperstown, and he knew 
where his ticket took him.” 

All the passengers crowded to the station side of 
the car to see where Bob went. 

And they saw very quickly; for with a joyful and 
undignified bark, he leaped upon a man and two chil¬ 
dren who had come to meet him. He nearly knocked 
the little girl and boy over with his hearty greeting. 

44 A fine dog,” said the people on the train. 



28 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“I’m so glad Uncle Dan has gone away,” said 
Daisy as she hugged Bob. “I wish mother would let 
us keep him all the time.” 

“Perhaps she will get to love him,” said Don. But 
their father shook his head. He knew that his wife 
had always been afraid of dogs, and had hated the 
sight of them. He had only offered to keep Bob for 
his brother, on condition that the children should see 
that the dog slept in the stable, and was kept entirely 
away from the house. 

Oh, the delightful days Don and Daisy had, romp¬ 
ing and tramping with Bob! The great dog proudly 
looked after his young charges wherever they went, 
and seemed to take just as much pleasure in the good 
times as did the children. He went with them to town 
as well as to the country. 

“I wish you’d send the dog away,” complained 
Mrs. Palmer. “He looks like a bear; I’m frightened 
every time I see him. I wouldn’t go near him for 
anything; and I’m afraid he will some day bite Daisy 
or Don.” 

“Don’t worry,” said Mr. Palmer, “Bob loves the 
children, and he wouldn’t hurt them or allow anyone 
else to hurt them.” 

Now I will tell you how Bob proved himself worthy 
of the trust reposed in him, and won for himself the 
medal which he wears to this day. 

“I want you children to go to the store for me,” 
said Mrs. Palmer one day. “Better leave Bob home, 
for it is very hot on the streets, and he might go mad. ’ ’ 

“Oh dear!” groaned both children. “We don’t 
want to go without Bob.” 

But although they started without him, a joyous 
bark behind them when they had gone half way, 
showed that he had broken away to join them. They 
had a beautiful time, and shared their “treats” with 
him, like generous children. 

When ready to go home each child carried a big 




Three Friends 












STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


29 


bundle, and Bob marched proudly ahead. Main street 
was crowded with wagons and trolley cars, and the 
children had to make a careful crossing. 

Bob led the way. As the children were half way 
across, the clanging of a bell showed a car coming 
swiftly upon them. 

“Hurry,’’ said Don, grasping Daisy’s hand. Old 
Bob, ahead, saw what the children did not see. He 
heard another bell clanging furiously, and saw the fire 
engine coming close beside the trolley and right in 
the path. 

At that moment the people on the sidewalk saw, 
too, and a great cry arose, for both the trolley and the 
car were going too fast to stop suddenly. 

Then it was that Bob proved his love for the chil¬ 
dren; proved not only that he was brave, but that he 
was self sacrificing as well. 

Turning swiftly, as he saw the oncoming engine, 
he dashed back in the path of the car, and hurling 
himself sideways against both of the children he 
knocked them backwards, flat on the hard stones, but 
safe from the trolley and the engine. 

But loving old Bob was not so lucky. He threw 
the children out of harm’s way instead of dashing for 
safety himself. And in so doing he was caught under 
the dreadful trolley and badly hurt. But he did not 
whimper. 

A neighbor who had witnessed the accident, 
hastened in his automobile to the Palmer’s house, and 
brought Mrs. Palmer, while someone else brought Mr. 
Palmer from his office. When Mr. Palmer arrived, 
the two children, who were only frightened and bruised 
from their fall, were sitting on chairs in the drugstore; 
and on the floor, with her arms about poor old suffer¬ 
ing Bob, was their mother, tears streaming from her 
eyes, as she helped the surgeon set the faithful dog’s 
broken leg. 

It was a long, long time before Bob was himself 


30 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


again, for his injuries were severe. And all that time 
he was an inmate of the Palmer home, and Mrs. 
Palmer herself took tender care of him. 

When Bob’s master came home from Europe, it 
was Mrs. Palmer herself who wrote him a pleading 
letter and asked him to let Bob stay there. 

“If it hadn’t been for Bob,” she wrote, “I should 
not now have my two fine children. Please let him 
stay with us; we love him dearly.” 

And so it happened that Bob was given to Don and 
Daisy “for keeps.” 



Gran’daddy. 

(A True Story.) 

ITTLE Esther had no father and mother, but 
she had a grandfather who loved her dearly. 
And because her mother and father both were 
dead, little Esther loved her grandfather as much as 
she would have loved both mother and father. And 
no wonder: for Gran’daddy, as she lovingly called 
him, was all the world to her, and he would willingly 
have laid down his life for little Esther’s sake. 

Gran’daddy was very old. His long white hair 
curled at the ends, and Esther brushed it as fondly 
as if he were a baby. Each morning after their break¬ 
fast, Esther would help Gran’daddy into his coat, see 
that his hair was in good order, and place his hat over 
the white curls. Then she would give him a loving 
kiss and start him on his way to work. 

Gran’daddy’s work was to sell pins and needles, 
and shoe laces and threads, and buttons and such 
things. And he was such a good-natured, hard-work¬ 
ing old man that people liked to buy from him. 

He made enough money to pay for a comfortable 
,little room for Esther and himself, and to feed and 
clothe them both; but there were no treats for the 
little one. When summer came Esther watched other 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


31 


little six-year-old girls go off to the seashore with 
shovel and pail, and she told Gran’daddy about it, and 
how she would like to go when they grew rich. 

Then Gran ’daddy made up his mind that she 
should go, that he would take her himself. 

He put in his pocket all the money he had been able 
to lay aside toward buying his peddler’s license, and 
off they went, one beautiful warm day, to the real sea¬ 
shore. 

Now Gran’daddy ought to have saved that money 
to buy his license. A peddler’s license is a paper 
which is sold by a city, giving the person who buys it 
the right to sell or peddle on the street, or from door 
to door. If a man tries to sell without a license, he is 
apt to he arrested by a policeman. Each year he must 
pay for a new license. 

Well, Esther and Gran’daddy had a beautiful time 
at the seashore; and they both rolled on the sand to 
their heart’s content. And they had soda to drink, 
and popcorn to eat, after their sandwiches. Oh, it 
was a beautiful day! 

“Oh Gran’daddy, I’m so happy!” cried little 
Esther, clasping her hands about Gran’daddy’s neck. 

Now Gran’daddy thought that in a few days he 
could perhaps save up enough money to pay for his 
license; and probably no one would ask him about it. 
So he went right on the next day, peddling his wares. 
Almost everyone knew Gran ’daddy and no one thought 
to question whether he had a license, until a strange 
policeman saw him. 

And then poor Gran’daddy was arrested and taken 
to court. And little Esther saw the policeman leading 
him off, and running after him learned why he had 
been arrested. 

Her dear grandfather who had worked so hard to 
keep her from starving, and who had given her the 
great pleasure of a day at the seashore, should not 
suffer if she could help it. So away she ran to the 


32 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


little top-story room where she and Gran’daddy lived, 
and in a few minutes she arrived at the police court, 
hot and panting. In her hands she held a little iron 
bank that had been hers ever since she was a baby; 
and it rattled merrily as she ran into the building. 

The magistrate had just found Gran’daddy guilty 
of peddling without a license; and had fined him two 
dollars. And Gran’daddy slowly and sadly shook his 
head. He knew he had done wrong to peddle without 
a license; and he had not a penny to pay the fine. 

Now when a person is arrested and fined, but can 
not pay, then he must go to jail. And Gran’daddy was 
just being led off when a little girl, her hair flying and 
her breath almost gone, rushed into the courtroom. 

A policeman tried to hold her back, but the magis¬ 
trate caught a glimpse of her troubled little face, and 
beckoned to her. 

Esther turned her little iron bank upside down on 
the clerk’s desk, and out rolled pennies and pennies. 

“These are to pay for my Gran’daddy,” she 
gasped. “He is the best Gan’daddy in the world, and 
he did not mean to do wrong. ’ ’ 

Little Esther was so timid that it took a great deal 
of courage for her to speak in court; but she loved her 
dear Gran’daddy, and love makes one brave. 

“What have you there!” asked the magistrate, 
looking at her over his glasses. 

“Pennies for dear Gran’daddy,” gasped Esther 
again. 

“Where did you get them!” asked the magistrate. 

“I earned them, and saved them,” said little 
Esther. “Gran’daddy gave me the bank when I was 
two years old, and I have saved and saved every 
penny I could get.” And then she told him how good 
Gran’daddy was to her. 

“And how much have you!” asked the magistrate. 

“A dollar and four cents,” answered little Esther, 
to whom that was a very big sum indeed—the savings 
of nearly; all her life. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


33 


“That is only half enough,” said the magistrate, 
looking very severe as he gazed at her over his glasses. 

All those pennies not half enough! Little Esther 
could scarcely believe it. And try as she would she 
could not keep the tears from her eyes. They rolled 
down over her pretty cheeks, and fell on the pennies 
that lay on the table. 

The magistrate was a kindly man; he had not 
thought to make Esther cry. 

“There, my dear/’ he said gently, “do not cry any 
more. Your grandfather may go, if he will promise 
to get a license. ’ ’ 

Of course Gran’daddy promised; and little Esther 
dried her eyes and thanked the magistrate prettily. 

When Gran "daddy and Esther walked home 
together, Esther slipped something into his hand. It 
was a dollar and four cents. 

“The kind man would not take it,” she said, “and 
it is for you, Gran’daddy, to buy a new license.” 


About the Pygmies. 


* 



LONG, long time ago the world was full of 
wonders and one of the wonders was a race of 
tiny little people. A great writer named Nath¬ 
aniel Hawthorne told about these little people, who 
were called pygmies. And tiny, tiny people they were, 
the largest of them being no longer than a lady’s hand. 
Just think, a whole family, father, mother, and babies, 
could all have been put to bed in an old shoe or an old 
glove ! 

Mother Earth was the mother of these pygmies, 
and also of a very large giant named Antaeus; and 
Antaeus and the pygmies lived together very affection- 


*Condensed from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Wonder Tales. 




34 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


ately, far off in the middle of Africa. The giant was 
so big that in foggy weather the pygmies could not see 
the upper half of his body. He carried an immense 
pine tree as a walking stick. Oh, he was a monstrous 
big mountain of a giant, and he had one eye, as large 
as a cartwheel, right in the center of his forehead. 
And Oh, but the giant loved the pygmies, and the pyg¬ 
mies loved him ! 

Now a very strange thing about Antaeus was that 
while he was cross to everyone else, he was very gentle 
with the pygmies; but that, I suppose, was not strange, 
for he and the pygmies were brothers. Once, by ac¬ 
cident, Antaeus sat down on about five thousand pyg¬ 
mies; but he had not intended to do it, and was so 
sorry that the little folk did not blame him. They only 
requested him in the future to select an acre of ground 
free from pygmies when he wanted a seat. 

“Poor creature,’’ the little pygmies often said, “he 
has a dull time by himself. Let us be kind to him. 
Why, if Mother Earth had not been very kind to us, 
we might have been giants too.” 

Such fun the pygmies had when the giant lay down 
on the ground ! The children played tag among his 
hairs, the boys had jumping matches from the tip of 
his nose to his upper lip; and it was a great climb to 
mount onto his hand and jump from one finger to 
another ! 

The pygmies had only one enemy, the cranes, and 
they were forever at war with the little people, be¬ 
cause the cranes wished to eat them. The pygmies 
would go to battle mounted on rats and bats and 
squirrels; and whenever the giant Antaeus saw that 
the cranes were capturing the pygmies, he would wave 
his club and shout till the cranes would run awav. 
The pygmies always thought that it was their fighting 
that drove the cranes away ! 

One day when Antaeus was playing in the fields 
with the pygmies, one little fellow climbed on his 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


35 


shoulder to see the view while the giant slept. To his 
great surprise he saw coming nearer and nearer, a 
great man, almost as large as Antaeus. So, shouting 
in the giant’s ear, he tried a awaken him. But the 
giant was sleepy and would not believe the little fel¬ 
low. Not until the other giant was near by, and the 
pygmies had shouted to Antaeus: 44 Get up, get up, 
lazy bones ! The strange giant’s club is bigger than 
your own, his shoulders are broader, and we think 
him stronger than you,” did Antaeus stir. 

He could not bear to have anyone thought as mighty 
as himself, so he gaped himself awake. When he saw 
the new giant, he brandished his pine-tree stick and 
strode out to meet him. Now the most wonderful 
thing about Antaeus was that whenever he touched the 
ground, he grew stronger than ever before; the earth, 
you know, was his mother, and that is the way she 
took of keeping him always strong. 

Now the stranger was not a bit afraid of Antaeus, 
but waited for him, while Antaeus shouted angrily that 
he would kill him with his pine stick. 

44 You are not very courteous,” said the new giant, 
and I shall have to teach you a lesson. My name is 
Hercules and I come this way because it is convenient. 
I am going to the garden of the Hesperides to get 
three golden apples.” 

Well ! Well ! But Antaeus roared with anger, and 
told him he should go neither forward nor back ! 
That he must lay down his club and be his slave and 
the slave of the pygmies; and that he would make a 
pair of gloves from the lion’s skin that Hercules wore ! 

44 Come take it then,” said Hercules. 

Then Antaeus raised his pine tree stick, but each 
time he struck at Hercules the new giant gave him a 
more skilful blow, and skill was better than strength. 

The little pygmies were almost frightened to death. 
Their largest city was in ruins. 

Soon Antaeus’ pine tree club was shattered into 


36 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


thousands of splinters as over and over Hercules 
hurled him to the ground. But Antaeus strength in¬ 
creased each time he touched the earth, although he 
was without weapons except his fists; and he roared 
ito Hercules to come on to fight. 

Hercules was strong enough to hold up the skies; 
but he saw that the oftener he knocked Antaeus down 
the more strength he had; so throwing his club away 
he challenged Antaeus to wrestle. 

So they clinched, and soon were wrestling fiercely. 
But Hercules was wiser than this great numbskull 
giant. Watching his chance, as the mad giant rushed 
at him, Hercules caught him around the middle with 
both hands, lifted him into the air, and held him high 
over his head ! 

Just think of the monstrous great giant Antaeus 
sprawling and kicking like any baby while Hercules 
held him aloft ! 

And the longer Hercules held him in the air, the 
weaker he grew, because unless Antaeus touched 
Mother Earth as often as once in five minutes, his 
strength, and his very life would depart. Hercules 
had guessed the secret, which may be well for us all to 
remember in case we meet a giant like Antaeus. We 
may easily conquer one if we can contrive to lift him 
to a higher and purer region. 

And that was the end of the giant Antaeus. 

But oh, how the pygmies grieved when they saw 
their big brother’s strength all gone, and his body 
flung a mile away. Hercules never noticed them, but 
spreading out his lion’s skin, lay down to rest and 
to sleep. 

When the pygmies saw him asleep, they resolved 
to destroy him because he had killed Antasus, their 
brother and friend. So after much blowing of trum¬ 
pets and speech making, it was decided that a great 
army should move against the sleeping enemy. Twen¬ 
ty thousand archers, with their bows and arrows, 
marched in the front rank and as many more collected 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


37 


sticks and straws and dried grass, and piled it high 
around Hercules ’ head. The archers were ordered to 
shoot at the giant if he stirred. 

Soon the pile around his he'ad was as high as his 
nose, and then the little people applied a torch to the 
mass of dry stuff. Now, if they could have kept 
Hercules still, the fire would have destroyed him; but 
no sooner did his hair begin to burn than up he 
jumped. 

At that moment twenty thousand tiny arrows came 
through the air straight toward his face. But his skin 
was tough, as the skin of a hero should be, and he did 
not feel them. 

“Villain !” shouted all the pygmies at once. “You 
have killed the giant Antaeus, our great brother and 
the ally of our nation. We declare war against you 
and will slay you on the spot.” 

Hercules was surprised at the sound of many tiny 
voices, and on looking closely at the ground, discov¬ 
ered the pygmies. Picking one up he said: 

“What in the world may you be, little fellow V 9 

“I am your enemy,” said the pygmy. “You have 
slain our brother and we shall put you to death. I 
challenge you to instant battle !” 

Hercules thought this very funny from so tiny a 
person, and laughed so hard that he almost dropped 
the mite. 

“Upon my word,” cried he, “ I thought I had 
seen wonders before today,—hydras with nine heads, 
stags with golden horns, six legged men, three headed 
dogs, giants with furnaces in their stomachs, and 
nobody knows what besides. But here, on the palm of 
my hand, stands a wonder that outdoes them all ! 
Your body, my friend, is about the size of an ordinary 
man’s finger. Pray, how big may your soul be V 9 

“As big as your own,” said the pygmy. 

Hercules’ heart was touched, and he bowed low to 
the whole nation of pygmies. “My good little people,” 
he said, “not for the world would I injure you. Your 


38 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


hearts seem so great that I do not see how such little 
bodies can hold them. I acknowledge yon have con¬ 
quered me, and if you will have peace, I will he out of 
your kingdom in six strides without hurting one of 
you. Goodbye.’’ 

And there Hercules left the pygmies, safe in their 
little kingdom, to build their little houses, till their 
little fields, wage little wars with the cranes, and spank 
their little children. And probably in the pygmy his¬ 
tories there is written the account of how the brave 
pygmies scared away the mighty Hercules. 


How the Little Jackals Fooled the Lion. 

(Adapted from a Hindu Folk Tale.) 

GREAT, great big lion once lived in a great, 
great big jungle. And he was king of all the 
animals. 

And every time he wanted anything to eat he 
just poked his big shaggy head out of his dark cave in 
the rocks, and roared. 

And after he had roared three times the jungle 
shook, and all the little people of the jungle ran from 
their holes hither and thither because they were so 
frightened. Then, of course, it was easy for the lion 
to catch them and gobble them up. 

Pretty soon not an animal was left because they 
were all eaten up—all except two little jackals, rather, 
a little father jackal and little mother jackal. And 
they were so thin from running away that they were 
hardly worth eating! 

But the lion was hungrier than ever, and one day, 
although they ran very fast, he nearly caught them. 
Little mother jackal was frightened. 

“Oh, little father!” she panted, “he will surely 
catch us.” 

“No, no, little mother, we will run, run, run!” said 
little father jackal. 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


39 


And they did run, and they ran faster than the 
lion that time. 

But next time the little mother jackal felt the lion’s 
hot breath. 4 ‘Oh, little father!” she panted, “the lion 
will surely catch us and eat us! ’ ’ 

“No, no, little mother, we will run, run, run!” said 
cunning little father jackal. “Just do as I say.” And 
he whisked her about, and taking her hand, ran right 
up toward the lion, just as if they wanted too! 

Then the lion roared in a terrible voice. “You 
little wretches, come right here and be eaten. Why 
didn’t you come before?” 

Little father jackal bowed just as if he wasn’t 
afraid. 

“We just wanted to come, dear King Lion,” 
he said, “but every time we started a horrible old 
lion roared at us so that he frightened us into running 
away. ’ ’ 

“R-r-r-r-r-r-! What do you mean?” roared the 
lion. “I am the only lion in the whole jungle, I’d 
have you know. ’ ’ 

The little father jackal scratched his head. 

“That is what everyone thinks,” he said, “but, 
oh, sir, there is indeed another! His face is horrible, 
his roar is dreadful, and he is far more awful than 
you are.” 

The lion roared so loud that the jungle trees 
trembled. 

“Show me where he is and I’ll eat him up first and 
then I’ll eat you,” he roared. 

Little mother jackal was not trembling now. She 
danced on with little father jackal, while the lion 
stalked after them. 

Soon they came to a deep round hole filled with 
clearest water. 

“There’s where he lives, King Lion,” said little 
father jackal. “Down in that hole.” 

The lion came close to the edge and looked down. 
A great angry lion face looked at him from the water! 


40 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Then King Lion shook his mane angrily and roared 
so that he almost burst. And the lion in the water 
shook his mane and showed his teeth too and looked 
very angry and ugly. And that made the lion above 
shake his mane again and make a more awful face. 
But the lion in the water made just as terrible a face 
hack at him. And that King Lion could not stand! He 
leaped at the other lion roaring, “Now, I’ll eat you!” 

You and I and the little jackals know there wasn’t 
any other lion. We know it was only—yes, a reflec¬ 
tion in the water. 

And the old lion couldn’t get out of the water— 
he is there yet, as far as I know. 

Little father and little mother jackal danced and 
danced and danced, all around and around the well. 
And they dance and laugh to this day when they think 
of the trick they played upon the cruel lion who had 
eaten all the animals, and wanted to eat them. 


Little Black Epaminondas. 

(As Told by Southern Mammies.) 

OST every day Epaminondas went to see his 
grandma. And grandma she gave him some¬ 
thing to take to his mammy. 

One day grandma gave him a piece of fine rich 
fruit cake to take home. 

Epaminondas held it tight in his fist, so he wouldn’t 
lose it. He walked along fast, and squeezed it, and 
there was only a handful of crumbs left to give to 
his mammy. 

“What’s that, Epaminondas?” asked mammy. 

“Fruit cake, mammy,” said Epaminondas. 

‘ ‘ For the lan’s sake, Epaminondas! Cake f Why, 
you ain’t got the sense you was horned with! Don’t 
you know how to carry cake? You mus’ wrap it all 
up nice an’ neat in some fresh leaves, an’ put it in 
your hat, an’ then put your hat on your head where 
it will be safe. You understan’, Epaminondas?”. 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


41 


“Yes, mammy,” said Epaminondas. 

When Epaminondas went to grandma’s the next 
day, she gave him a pound of nice, fresh, yellow butter 
to take to his mammy. 

So Epaminondas carefully wrapped it in fresh 
leaves, put it in his hat, put his hat on, and ran along 
home. 

The day was hot and so was Epaminondas. The 
butter began to melt, and it trickled down over his 
forehead, and his ears, and his cheeks, and down his 
neck. And all that was left in his hat was the leaves. 

“Sakes alive! what’s in your hat, Epaminondas!” 
said mammy. 

“Butter for you,” said Epaminondas. “Grand¬ 
ma sent it.” 

“Butter!” said mammy. “Butter ? Epaminondas, 
you ain’t got the sense you was borned with! The 
way to carry butter is to wrap it in fresh leaves an’ 
dip it in the brook, an’ dip it an’ dip it till it’s all cool 
an’ nice, then hold it carefully in your hands till you 
come along home. You understan’, Epaminondas V ’ 

“Yes, mammy,” said Epaminondas. 

Next time Epaminondas saw his grandma she gave 
him a little tiny puppy to take home. 

Carefully Epaminondas put it on some fresh green 
leaves and took it down to the brook; and he dipped it 
and dipped it in the water till it was all cool; and 
then he held it carefully in his hands, while he hurried 
along home. The little, tiny, wet puppy was more dead 
than alive. His mammy didn’t know what it was. 

“Lawd-a-massy, Epaminondas! . What you 

brought!” * ' 

“A little, tiny pup, mammy,” said Epaminodas. 

“A little, tiny pup!” said his mammy. “Why, 
good gracious, Epaminondas, you ain’t got the sense 
you was borned with! The way to carry a little, tiny 
pup, is to tie one end of a long string around the little, 
tiny pup’s neck, and put the puppy on the ground, 


42 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and then take hold of the other end an’ walk home 
this-a-way. You understand Epaminondas?” 

Next time, grandma gave Epaminondas a nice, 
fresh, cosy loaf of crusty bread. 

And Epaminondas found a nice string and care¬ 
fully tied one end of it around the loaf of bread, and 
put it down on the ground, and took hold of the other 
end of the string, and came along home through the 
woods. Mammy was at the cabin door and she looked 
at the end of the string that followed Epaminondas. 

“Lan’ o’ Goshen, Epaminondas! What’s that?” 

“White bread from grandma,” said Epamin¬ 
ondas. 

“White bread!” groaned mammy. “White breadI 
white bread! You ain’t got the sense you was horned 
with, Epaminondas, an’ I ain’t goin’ to try to teach 
you nothin’ more. You just stay right where you are 
an’ don’t you go see your grandma again. I’ll go 
fetch home my own truck. Now you just remember, 
Epaminondas, and don’t have no nonsense while I’m 
gone. You look at them six nice, fresh, crisp punkin 
pies on the doorstep to get cool. An’ you understan’ 
me, Epaminondas—I ain’t joking one bit—you be care¬ 
ful how you step on them pies!” 

‘ ‘Yes, mammy,” said Epaminondas. 

Then his mammy found her basket, and put on her 
best bonnet and shawl, and went to see grandma. And 
as she went she looked at the six nice, fresh, crisp 
punkin pies set in a nice straight row on the doorstep 
to cool. 

And when she had gone Epaminondas did as she 
told him—he was very careful how he stepped on those 
pies! 

He stepped very carefully, one foot exactly in the 
middle of each and every pie! 
****** * # # # 

And what happened next? Nobody knows except 
Epaminondas and his mammy. But we can guessl 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 43 


How the Little Jackal Fooled Mr. Big 

Alligator. 

(Adapted from a Hindu Folk Tale.) 

OlgjfOW if the Little Jackal had not been overfond of 
crabs, this story might never have been written. 
Very often his mouth would just water for a 
taste of crab, and he would steal down to the river hank 
to hunt for a few delicious crabs. 

One time, when he was hunting, he put his paw into 
the water without being sure, first, that it was a crab 
he saw. 

Crack! Mr. Big Alligator who lived in the mud 
bottom had snapped his jaws on it. 

It didn’t hurt the Little Jackal much, but he was 
frightened. 

4 ‘Oli, me!” he said to himself. 44 Mr. Big Alligator 
will pull me in and swallow me in a minute. What 
shall I do?” He scratched his head. 44 I have it!” 
he said softly. Then, in a very sweet voice, he said 
aloud: 

44 Oho, clever Mr. Big Alligator! How smart you 
are to mistake an old rush-weed for my foot. Oho, 
ho, ho! I hope you’ll like your dinner!” 

Mr. Big Alligator, deep in the mud and rush-weed, 
felt very foolish. And just to show that he knew it 
was a rush-weed he let go and said: 

44 I was only playing a game, anyway.” 

Then the Little Jackal laughed loud and long as he 
ran away, singing: 

4 4 Oho, Mr. Big Alligator, thank you, thank you for 
your kindness.” 

Then Mr. Big Alligator was so furious that he 
lashed his tail till it almost snapped, as Little Jackal 
ran out of sight. 

You would think the Little Jackal would have kept 
away from the river after that, but very soon he began 
to get hungry again for crab—and he was so hungry 
he could hardly see! 


44 THE FIKST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


So down to the river he went, all softly—softly. 
Mr. Big Alligator was nowhere to be seen. Where 
was he? 

So the Little Jackal winked his left eye slowly and 
said out quite loud: 

“No crabs on the shore today! Well, well! When 
I don’t find any on land I always expect to see some 
poking their heads out of the water, so I know where 
to catch them. I hope I find some nice fat ones today 
to fill my hungry-hole.’ ’ 

Mr. Big Alligator, snug in the mud-bottom of the 
river, laughed to himself when he heard the Little 
Jackal thinking aloud. And he smacked his huge jaws 
softly and said “m-mm!” Then he poked just the 
least tip end of his snout above the water, thinking it 
would look like a crab. 

“Oho, Mr. Big Alligator, thank you, thank you! 
I wondered where you were! I have lost my appetite 
for crabs today; thank you for your kindness!” 

Oh, but wasn’t Mr. Big Alligator the angriest alli- 
.gator ever seen! And he wanted a jackal dinner so 
badly! 

The Little Jackal laughed and laughed as he ran 
away like the wind. 

But two weeks later his hungry-hole demanded 
crab to eat, so he started for the river again. The 
water looked so calm and peaceful that it seemed as if 
Mr. Big Alligator had gone visiting. But the Little 
Jackal began to talk to himself again—a habit he had. 

Said he, “I always know the little crabs are down 
in the water when I don’t find them on shore or see 
their heads poking up. And when they are in the water 
I know just where to find them, because they blow 
little bubbles, and the little bubbles come up poppety- 
pop, and show me just where to put my paw in to 
catch a nice juicy crab. I must look sharp for the 
bubbles.” 

Mr. Big Alligator laughed in his weedy bed. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


45 


“Aha, now I have him,” he said to himself, “7 can 
blow crab bubbles too.” And he blew and lie blew, 
and the bubbles boiled up like a giant kettle boiling. 

The Little Jackal did not need to be told that a 
little crab could not blow giant bubbles. He just 
glanced once at them and then hurried off, crying: 

“Oho, very kind Mr. Big Alligator! Thank you, 
thank you for showing me just where to look for you. 
I think I prefer figs for dinner, thank you.” 

To say that Mr. Big Alligator was angry would not 
tell you half how furious he was. He was so furious 
that he crawled right up out of the water and ran 
after the Little Jackal. But he didn’t catch him. Oh, 
no; the Little Jackal was quite fleet of foot. 

This cured the Little Jackal of his desire for crabs, 
and he filled his hungry-hole with fruits and berries, 
and grew quite fond of wild figs for breakfast. 

But Mr. Big Alligator did not lose his desire 
for jackal, and Ms hungry-hole was hungrier than 
ever. 

He watched till he saw where the little jackal went 
for his figs, and he dragged himself ashore and hid 
himself under a big wild fig-tree, all covered with wild 
figs and leaves. 

Soon the Little Jackal came singing along, but look¬ 
ing carefully ahead and right and left. He soon spied 
the huge pile of figs under the big tree. 

“Oho,” he said to himself, “Oho and Aha! What 
might that big pile be that was not here yesterday! ’ ’ 

Then he said out loud to himself—a little habit he 

had: 

“When the breeze blows, the nice, ripe, juicy figs 
fall to the ground, and the wind rolls them about. I 
don’t like the stale figs that lie on the ground like 
those in that big pile; they must be bad or they would 
roll a bit in the breeze.” 

Then Mr. Big Alligator knew he would have to 
make the figs on the pile roll a bit to look like good 


46 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


figs; so lie took a deep breath, which humped him so 
that the figs blew up into the air and showed a bit of 
his back. 

The Little Jackal never stopped to look twice. All 
he did was to call over his shoulder as he ran: “Oh, 
dear Mr. Big Alligator, how good, how kind of you to 
show me where you are. Thank you, and thank you 
again! ’ ’ 

Then Mr. Big Alligator flew into a terrible rage, 
and he vowed he would eat the Little Jackal for supper 
that very night. So off he crept to the Little Jackal’s 
house, and crawling inside he hid himself to wait for 
the Little Jackal to come home. 

By-and-by along came the Little Jackal, dancing 
merrily—but looking carefully on every side. And 
when he saw the ground all scratched up, and the door 
of his Little House twisted and broken, he winked his 
left eye, and began to talk aloud to himself (a little 
habit he had, you remember), and this is what he said: 

“Why, Little House, don’t you know me? What is 
the matter with you, my Little House? You always 
speak to me if everything is all right—is something 
wrong that you do not greet me, my Little House?” 

Mr. Big Alligator was quite tired waiting to catch 
the Little Jackal: now he surely had him! But as the 
Little House did not speak he had to. So in a very 
sweet voice he said: 

“Back again, Little Jackal?” 

And the Little Jackal was frightened, I can tell you! 
And he thought to himself, “If I don’t put an end to 
Mr. Big Alligator now, he may put an end to me, 
which will be unpleasant.” Then he thought very 
quickly. 

“Oh, dear Little House,” he said in a minute. “It is 
good to hear your sweet voice. I was afraid something 
was wrong. I will be right there in a minute, after I 
gather some firewood to cook our dinner.” 

Then the Little Jackal gathered and gathered a lot 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 47 


of firewood, which he piled on all sides of the house. 
And then he set fire to the wood. 

And the wood smoked and it burned and burned 
until Mr. Big Alligator was burned into a smoked 
herring! 



Prince Cherry and the Gold Ring. 

0 you ever wear a little gold ring? Perhaps you 
do, and perhaps it has a stone in it. 

This story is about a little gold ring, but it 
begins with a wise and good old king, who had an only 
son. 

One day the Mightiest Fairy in the whole land 
called at the palace and told the good king that his 
dearest wish would be granted. 

“I have but one wish,” said the good old king. 
“It is for my only son, Prince Cherry.” 

“Say what that wish is,” said the Fairy Candide, 
“and it shall be granted. It is within my power to 
make him the most beautiful, the most powerful, the 
richest prince in the world.” 

The wise king smiled. “It is not wealth nor beauty 
nor power that I want for him. Of what use will they 
be if he grows to be a bad man? I pray you, make 
him the best prince in the world.” 

“That,” said the fairy, “is beyond my power. No 
one but the prince himself can accomplish that. I can 
be his best friend, and I can advise, reprove and punish 
him; but I can not make him good unless he wishes 
to be good.” 

The old king was satisfied with Fairy Candide’s 
promise, and he died later, happy to know that his 
son had such a powerful friend. 

Little Prince Cherry was a charming boy, as well 
as a loving one. He deeply missed his wise father 
and grieved for him. One night a beautiful light 



48 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


shone in his room, and a vision appeared before his 
wondering eyes. It was the Fairy Candide, dazzling 
in her beauty. 

She looked lovingly at the prince. 

“I promised your father that I should be your best 
friend,’’ she said. “It is not much that I can do for 
you without your help; but I have brought you a sim¬ 
ple gift.” 

She placed on Prince Cherry’s finger a small gold 
ring. 

“This little ring,” she continued, “will help 
you to be good. If you happen to do wrong, it will 
prick you to remind you. And beware how you 
neglect its warnings or you may make an enemy 
of me. ’ 4 

Prince Cherry had hardly thanked her before she 
disappeared. He wore the ring steadily without know¬ 
ing he had it on, for he was good and happy. Nothing 
happened to disturb him. 

But like some princes and many everyday children, 
Prince Cherry had a great deal of pride. His nurses 
had spoiled him by telling him that when he became 
king he could have everything his own way. So Prince 
Cherry had something to learn. 

One day the prince went hunting with his courtiers. 
As luck would have it he shot no game, and that made 
him cross. He scolded his courtiers and so completely 
lost his temper that when his favorite dog jumped 
upon him to be caressed, Prince Cherry kicked him. 
Never before had he hurt a living creature. Instantly 
he felt a sharp prick on his little finger, under the 
gold ring. 

He well knew what it meant. 

“I am king,” he said crossly, “and I have the 
right to do as I please!” 

Then a silvery voice sounded in his ear. It said: 
“A king has a right only to do good: See that you 
do no evil.” 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


49 


Of course, it was the voice of the Fairy Candide, 
and Prince Cherry made an effort to he good. But 
something else weoit wrong and he forgot the warn¬ 
ing again, until the ring pricked him so that a drop of 
blood stood on his finger. 

It happened not only once or twice, but many, many 
times, for there were bad men in the kingdom who 
tried to make Prince Cherry so wicked that his sub¬ 
jects would dislike him, and then they could seize the 
throne. The prince began to neglect his duties, to 
treat his animals and his servants cruelly, and to fly 
into a passion when anything was denied to him. The 
ring kept pricking him so continually that he hid it 
away. But this helped him not a whit. 

Finally Prince Cherry fell in love with a bewitching 
young girl named Zelia. But, although he loved her 
very much, she refused to be his queen. 

“I could not marry you,” said the young girl, 
“unless you were as good as the king, your father. 
You would make a queen quite miserable, I fear.” 

It angered Prince Cherry to be refused his wish, 
and he had the young girl thrown into a dungeon. 

The wicked men who wished to have the throne, 
encouraged the young king. 

“You are king and the king can do no wrong,” 
they said, “you should do as you please. Make the 
young girl do as you bid, and if she will not, sell her as 
a slave.” 

“But would it not disgrace a king to harm a 
woman?” questioned Prince Cherry. 

“It would be a disgrace,” said the courtiers, “to 
have it known that your subjects will not obey you.” 

“She shall obey me!” cried Prince Cherry. “I 
am the KING!” and he ran to the dungeon where he 
had thrust poor Zelia. 

The dungeon was empty. Prince Cherry held the 
only key. Not one of his subjects would have dared 
release her save his old tutor, his father’s friend. 


VOL. 1—4 


50 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Angrily, the prince ordered the tutor put in irons— 
when, with a rush and crash as of deafening thunder 
a brilliant light filled the room. In the center of the 
great light stood the Fairy Candide. Her beautiful 
face was sorrowful and stern. 

“Selfish and cruel prince/’ she said in a clear 
voice that resounded like a trumpet. “You have be¬ 
come baser than the beasts you hunt. You are angrier 
than the roaring lion. You are revengeful as the wily 
serpent. You are as greedy as the savage wolf. You 
are as brutal as the cruel bull. Therefore, you shall 
have the shape of the animals you have chosen to 
resemble.” 

Before the prince could realize what was hap¬ 
pening, the Fairy Candide vanished, and her voice 
floating hack, said: “Learn to conquer your pride by 
being obedient to your own subjects.” 

In an instant Prince Cherry was taken to a far 
distant land, and there in a clear pool he saw his own 
image. The head of a lion, the horns of a bull, the 
feet of a wolf, the tail of a serpent, were reflected 
from the water. And the fairy’s voice whispered: 
“You have made your soul even more ugly than your 
shape.” 

The poor creature tried to run away from the 
accusing voice, when he was caught in a bear-trap 
in the woods. The trappers had never seen an animal 
like this, and they took it to the palace to show the 
king. The court was in an uproar, and the poor dis¬ 
guised prince heard how Prince Cherry had been 
killed by lightning, how the wicked courtiers had 
attempted to rule the kingdom; and how the people 
had refused to have them, but had offered to crown the 
old tutor. 

As the trappers brought the strange animal into 
the courtyard, the old tutor spoke from the palace 
steps: 

“I will keep the crown in trust for Prince Cherry,” 
he said. “Perhaps he is not dead.” 


STOEIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


51 


“We do not want a bad king like Prince Cherry!” 
cried the people. 

“He is not entirely bad,” said the tutor. “If he is 
living perhaps he will repent, and learn to be good; 
then he will make a wise king like his father.’’ 

The strange beast heard this and his heart softened, 
so they led him meekly to the menageries. There he 
had plenty of time to see that he had brought all the 
sorrow upon himself, and how many times he wished 
he had been kind to his own animals! The keeper 
was very, very cruel. 

One day came Prince Cherry’s chance for revenge 
on the cruel keeper. A fierce tiger in the royal 
menagerie escaped and attacked him. 

“Now,” said Prince Cherry to himself, “some of 
my sufferings are over, for the cruel keeper will be 
killed. ’ ’ 

But when he saw the tiger spring towards the help¬ 
less man, Prince Cherry himself sprang on the tiger 
and saved the keeper’s life. 

No sooner had he done this good deed than he 
heard a voice in the air, which said: “A kind act is 
always rewarded.” 

And before he knew it, his ugly shape had changed 
into that of a little white dog. 

The grateful keeper told the story to the queen, 
and the little dog was treated royally, except that he 
was often half starved in order to keep him small: 
some days he had only a crust of bread. 

Once he carried his crust beneath the trees in the 
woods. As he was beginning to eat he saw a poor old 
woman gathering roots. Prince Cherry saw that she 
was thin and weak; and in a minute the old woman saw 
a little white dog drop a crust of bread at her feet. 
She ate it greedily and thankfully. 

As he trotted back to the palace cries of distress 
met his ears, and he saw rough men dragging a help¬ 
less young girl. And the helpless young girl was the 
Zelia he had loved. He longed to be a great, ugly beast 


52 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


again so he could protect her. The best he could do 
was to bite their heels. 

As they carried Zelia into a tower in the woods, 
the little dog crouched on the steps and sobbed. He 
knew he had been as wicked as they, and perhaps would 
have been more wicked if Fairy Candide had not in¬ 
terfered. As he reproached himself a window in the 
tower opened, and a piece of meat fell near him. But 
before he could eat it the woman he had befriended 
snatched him away. 

“It is poisoned!” she cried. “You shall not eat 
it!” 

Prince Cherry felt his fur changing to feathers, 
and as he was transformed into a pure white dove, a 
voice in the air said: 

“A kind act is always rewarded. You gave your 
food to the hungry.” 

Joyfully Prince Cherry flew to the tower window to 
find Zelia, but she had disappeared. Not daunted in 
his purpose of helping her, he flew over the world to 
find her. One day, in a far distant country, he found 
her, sitting in a hermit’s hut. 

With a cry of delight the white dove flew to the 
young girl’s shoulder and caressed her. 

“You beautiful, beautiful bird!” cried Zelia. “If 
you will stay with me I shall love you always.” 

As she spoke the bird vanished. But better yet, 
in its place stood Prince Cherry in his old form, hand¬ 
some and charming, but kind, modest and loving, hold¬ 
ing out his arms to Zelia. 

The hermit changed to the beautiful Fairy Candide, 
who, smiling happily, said: 

“The spell is broken, Prince Cherry, because you 
are now worthy of Zelia’s love.” 

Prince Cherry did not need to be told that love 
and kindness and modesty had won for him his heart’s 
desire, where violence could not. Nor did he need to 
be waraed to keep down his pride and his anger, 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


53 


Back to the palace went the prince with Zelia. 
The old tutor gave the throne to him, and as he was now 
wise and good enough to rule, King Cherry ascended 
the throne with Queen Zelia beside him. 

And always he wore the little gold ring. When¬ 
ever he looked at it he remembered that if he had 
only controlled himself in the beginning he could have 
saved himself and others much pain. 


How to Find Gold. 

/f&W?^ (Retold from an Italian Folk Tale.) 

S ^j|NCE upon a time there lived a wise old farmer. 
, He worked very hard, and soon his farm was 
! well tilled. But his three sons did not wish 
to be farmers. They wanted to go out into the world 
and find wealth without working for it. This made 
the old farmer sad, because he wished his sons to grow 
into useful men. 

When the farmer grew old he called his three sons 
to his bedside. 

“My sons,” said, “I shall soon leave you, for I 
am now an old man. I leave you my farm, and on it 
you can find a fortune. There is a pot of gold hidden 
in the olive orchard. Dig for it if you wish to find it.” 

In vain the sons tried to get the father to tell them 
just where the gold was hidden; all he would say was: 
“Dig, and you will find it.” 

Shortly after this the old farmer died, and his sons 
set to work to find the pot of gold. They agreed to 
begin all in a line at one end, and to dig to a certain 
depth across the whole orchard, which was quite large; 
and that they would not stop till one or the other of 
them found the pot of gold. 

So they dug and they dug, and they worked harder 
than ever in their lives before; up early in the morn¬ 
ing with the birds, and out late till the sun went down. 
Close up to the roots of the trees they dug, from one 



54 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


end of the orchard to the other, but no pot of gold 
was to be found. 

The three sons were much disappointed. Their 
father was always a truthful man, so they knew he had 
not willingly deceived them. One suggested that the 
pot of gold had been stolen in the night. Finally, they 
came to believe that the father must have been crazy 
when he told them of the pot of gold. 

The next year the olive trees in the orchard bore 
much fruit There was a very fine crop indeed, more 
than from the fine orchards of other farmers; the dig¬ 
ging in the orchard had been better than ploughing, 
and the olives had grown to great size, as well as in 
great quantity. When the olives were taken to mar¬ 
ket, they were sold at such a great price that the sons 
had a whole pot of gold. 

When they brought the money home and saw how 
much there was of it, they understood what the wise 
old farmer had meant by saying: “There is a pot of 
gold hidden in the orchard; dig for it.” 


The Jester King * 

N old, old story tells about King Robert of Sicily, 
and I will tell it to you as I heard it. 

King Robert was very proud and haughty, 
and his heart was filled so full of his own greatness 
that he forgot the goodness of God and the needs of 
his own people. And he went to church not to wor¬ 
ship God and to give thanks for his blessings, but to 
show his people what a fine king they had, dressed in 
the handsome royal robes. 

One afternoon at church the king noticed that the 
choir chanted the same words over and over again. 
As he knew no Latin, he asked one of courtiers what 
the meaning was. 



*Freely adapted from the poem of Henry W. Longfellow. 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


55 


“They sing: 4 He hath put down the mighty from 
their seats, and hath exalted them of low degree/ ” 
said the courtier. 

The king was very angry. “They are untrue 
words/’ he cried, holding his head high. “No power 
in heaven or earth can put me down from my seat! ’ ’ 

Before the service was ended the King fell asleep. 
When he awoke he was alone in the dark, cold church. 
Indeed someone should suffer for leaving the king 
alone in the dark! He was forced to beat at the great 
doors and shout for help. Over and over he shouted 
and finally the old sexton heard. 

“Open the door for the king/’ shouted an angry 
voice from within. 

The sexton was frightened, and opened the door 
carefully. 

Out rushed a man with a wild, white face and tat¬ 
tered clothes! Past the sexton he went, toward the 
palace gates. 

King Robert, filled with rage, saw not his tatters. 
He pushed the servants aside in his haste to punish 
someone, and to the banquet hall he went. There was 
a great feast in progress. And in the midst of the 
flowers and light and gay courtiers and ladies, sat a 
king upon Robert’s own throne! So like was he, in 
form and mien and robes, yes even to the crown and 
king’s signet ring, that no one could have told the 
difference. 

Ah, but there was a difference. It was in the voice. 
The king on the throne had a sweet voice like the 
chiming of bells. 

The tattered Robert of Sicily stood before the 
throne. “I am the king,” he cried, “You are a 
rogue.” 

The king’s guards drew their swords and would 
have run them through the crazy man who insulted 
the king on the throne. 

But he raised his hand, and looking at Robert, said: 


56 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“You shall be the king’s jester, not the king! You 
shall wear the cap and bells and play with the jester’s 
ape.” 

How the palace shook with the laughter of the cour¬ 
tiers, the soldiers, and even the servants, when the 
pages brought the fool’s cap and put it on the head of 
Robert of Sicily! 

He could not understand what had happened to 
him and why he, the mighty king, should be kept 
from his throne by a rogue. That night he spent on 
a hard straw bed in the stable, shivering with the 
ape. Robert of Sicily was the fool. 

For three long years Robert of Sicily played the 
fool, while the king on the throne governed wisely 
and well; and all Sicily was happy. Many times had 
the fool been called privately to the throne-room and 
asked, “who art thou?” And each time the new 
king had hoped to find Robert’s heart. 

But each time Robert of Sicily answered defiantly: 
“7 am the King!” 

When three years had passed the Pope bade his 
two brothers, the King of Sicily and the Emperor of 
Allemaine, to a great meeting in Rome. 

Such a grand, gay sight it was, with the bright 
and clanking armor, the cloaks of silk and velvet, 
the jewels, and the gaily bedecked horses! Robert 
the Jester rode at the end of the line, on a poor old 
calico-colored horse, and he and the ape made laugh¬ 
ter wherever thev went. 

•/ 

With musical instruments playing and banners 
waving, the Pope bade his brother, the King of Sicily, 
welcome. As he made his greeting, the ragged jester 
pushed to the front, and flung himself before the 
Pope. 

“7 am King Robert of Sicily!” he cried: “This 
man is a thief who has stolen my throne.” 

The Pope looked with pity at the fool, and Robert 
was pushed back into the throng. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


57 


Every day there were services in the Cathedral, for 
it was Holy Week. And everyone in Rome felt that 
some wonderful and holy presence was in the city. 
Men worshipped God and felt His blessing on their 
heads. But none knew why the whole city felt a holy 
presence. 

On Easter day the great churches were swept with 
flowers and incense, and a heavenly beauty filled every 
thing body and every thing. 

Robert the Jester must go to the services too, and 
he heard as once before chanted over and over: “He 
hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath 
exalted them of low degree.” He remembered where 
he had heard it before, when he was really king, and 
his proud heart softened. He felt the sweetness of the 
service and thought of his own wickedness. He saw 
how little good he had done, and remembered his pride 
in his own power—which was not his own power but 
the power of God. 

On Easter night he wept on his bed of straw, for 
sorrow that he had not been a better king. 

When the King of Sicily and his followers returned 
home, the monks held a service of prayer and praise. 
And the sound came to the palace. The King, wearing 
his royal robes, sent all but his jester away. 

“Who are thou?” he said gently, as he looked at 
the jester. 

The real Robert of Sicily wept. “Thou knowest 
best,” he said. “I only know that I am a sinner.” 

The monks voices sang: “He that hath put down 
the mighty from their seats—” when suddenly the mu¬ 
sic changed and a wonderful light shone in the room. 
As Robert of Sicily raised his penitent head he saw 
the smile of the king, radiant and heavenly, and he 
sank on his knees before the throne. 

Then a voice full of melody came from the throne: 

“I am an angel, and thou art the King!” 

Behold, Robert of Sicily was no longer in rags. 


58 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


He was alone, and the king’s robes were upon him. 
The royal crown was on his brow. He was king. 

When the courtiers returned, Robert of Sicily 
knelt in prayer by his throne. 


The Tortoise Who Could Not Hold Her 

Tongue. 

OU know what a tortoise is, do you not? It is 
a kind of a turtle. Well, in India, way over the 
other side of the world there once lived a tor¬ 
toise who talked a great deal. She liked to hear her¬ 
self talk. Near by lived two wild ducks, and the 
tortoise talked much to them. Now in India it is 
sometimes very dry, and once the lake in which the 
ducks and the tortoise lived dried up entirely. 

“We can not live without water,” said they, “so 
we shall fly away. Goodbye, Mrs. Tortoise.” 

“I shall die if you leave me alone!” cried the tor¬ 
toise. “Pray take me with you.” 

“But you have no wings,” said the ducks. The 
tortoise cried again at being left alone, till the ducks 
were sorry for her, and planned a way to take her with 
them. 

They got a stout twig, and each holding an end in 
their mouths, they told the tortoise to take the middle 
of it in her mouth. 

“Be sure to remember,” said they, “that you are 
not to say one word, for if you open your mouth 
while we are flying in mid air, you will drop from the 
stick. ’ ’ 

“Oh indeed, I will hold my tongue,” cried the 
thankful tortoise. 

So she held the center of the stick firmly in her 
mouth, while the two ducks each took an end, and flew 
into the air. 

Oh how hard it was for the tortoise to keep silent ! 
She longed to remark on how far above the trees they 




59 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 

were, and to ask what that was on the top of the church 
steeple, and to say how the cool air made her shiver— 
hut she remembered and kept silent. And when she 
heard people shout at the sight of two ducks carrying 
a tortoise, she wanted to tell them it was none of their 
business. 

And when larger crowds began to gather and peo¬ 
ple cried: 4 ‘Oh how foolish that tortoise looks hang¬ 
ing to the stick, the tortoise felt she must tell them 
that they looked very small and insignificant them¬ 
selves. And she opened her mouth to say it before 
she thought—and down she fell to the ground! And 
that was the end of her . 

It is very necessary to know how to keep one’s 
mouth shut. 


The Story of Puss in Boots. 

wM^HIS is a wonderful story that your grandmother 
fegjlg knew when she was a little girl; her grandmother 
probably told it to her. So I tell it to you to tell 
some day to your grandchildren. 

Once upon a long time ago, there lived a miller 
who had three sons. When this miller died he left 
his mill, his donkey and his cat. That was all there 
was for the sons. So the oldest son took the mill, the 
second son the donkey, and the youngest son had the 
cat. Do you wonder that the youngest son was sad, 
with so small a fortune ? The two older brothers 
joined their fortunes and made a good living. But of 
what use was a cat 1 

You shall see. 

The youngest brother was good-natured about his 
legacy. “I can at least eat the cat and make me 
a muff of his skin,” he said. 

Now puss was also good-natured, or he would not 
have liked this. 

“My good master,” said he, “ if you will give me 
a bag and a pair of boots to protect my feet, I will 
show you of what use a cat may be.” 




60 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The young master, having seen the cat play many 
clever tricks, gave him the boots and the bag to see 
what he would do. 

So Puss drew on the-boots, slung the bag over his 
shoulder and without more ado set oft for the woods. 
On the way he filled the bag with sow-thistle and 
bran, of which rabbits are fond. 

Putting his bag on the ground, he stretched himself 
flat beside it, to make the rabbits think he was dead. 

Soon some young rabbits, who did not know the sly 
ways of the cat, smelled the good things in the bag. 
One braver than the rest jumped into the bag—when 
pop! up jumped Puss and pulled the string tight! 

Then to the palace journed he, where he asked to 
see the king. 

“I have here, your Majesty, the finest rabbits of 
the woods which my noble lord, the Marquis of Car- 
abas, has sent with his compliments,” said Puss. 

The King was much pleased, and sent his thanks to 
the Marquis. 

A day later Puss hid himself in a cornfield, and 
holding his bag open, caught a pair of fine partridges. 
These he also took to the King as a present from his 
master. The King was much pleased and gave the 
cat a present of money. 

Thus Puss made a friend of the King, by being 
polite and generous. 

One day Puss said to his Master: “Today the 
King takes his daughter, the most beautiful princess 
in the world, to the river side. Follow my advice and 
your fortune is made. Go, bathe in the river near the 
royal gardens, and leave the rest to me.” 

The master followed his cat’s advice. While he 
was in the water the King passed by. 

“Help! Help!” cried Puss. “My Lord Marquis of 
Carabas is drowning!” 

The king, hearing the cat that had been so good to 
him, summoned his guards to help the drowning man. 

“My Lord Marquis of Carabas has been robbed of 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


61 


his clothing,” said Puss to the King. (Really he had 
hidden them under a large stone!) 

So the King ordered the Master of the Wardrobe 
to bring a tine suit for the great Marquis of Carabas. 

When the young man was clothed he was so hand¬ 
some that the princess looked at him very often in¬ 
deed! So the King invited him into the carriage to 
ride. 

Puss marched delightedly along before the carri¬ 
age. Seeing some men making hay, he called: 

<; My good people, if you fail to tell the King that 
the meadow you mow belongs to my Lord Marquis of 
Carabas, you shall be chopped into mince meat !” 

When the King passed and asked who owned the 
meadow, all the workers answered together: “The 
Marquis of Carabas.” 

As Puss went on he met a band of reapers in a 
cornfield. 

My good people, if you fail to tell the King that 
this corn belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, you shall 
be chopped into mince meat!” 

So when the King asked who owned the corn the 
reapers all said: “The Marquis of Carabas!” 

So it was wherever they went, and the King saw 
that his guest owned much land. 

Finally Puss came to a large castle owned by a 
very rich ogre. All the rich meadows belonged to him, 
as Puss knew. 

The ogre asked the Cat in and was as nice as an 
ogre can be. 

“I hear,” said Puss, “that you are a wonderful 
man, and that by your magic you can change yourself 
into any kind of an animal.” 

“That is true” said the ogre. “I shall show you.” 
And before Puss could speak the ogre became a fierce 
lion. Puss sprang up to the roof, boots and all, he 
was so frightened; and he did not come down till 
the ogre became himself again. 

"Wonderful! Wonderful!” cried Puss, "I have 


62 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


also heard that you can change yourself into the small¬ 
est of animals, but I always doubted if you could 
change into so small a thing as a mouse.” 

“You have!” cried the ogre crossly. “I can do 
everything. Watch me !” And immediately he 
changed into a mouse running about the floor. 

At that, Puss sprang upon him and gobbled him 
up! 

The King, passing, looked at the vast castle. And 
just then out marched Puss. Bowing low before the 
King he said: 

“Welcome, your Majesty, to the castle of my Lord 
Marquis of Carabas!” 

“What!” cried the King. “Does this castle be¬ 
long to you? It is as fine as the palace.” 

The Marquis of Carabas helped the princess up the 
steps, and in they all went. 

In the large banquet hall there was spread a great 
feast, which the ogre had prepared for his own friends. 

By the time the banquet was over, the Princess and 
the Marquis were much in love. And the King, seeing 
the vast wealth of his host, said: 

“My Lord Marquis, if you do not become my son- 
in-law it will be your own fault.” 

The Marquis bowed low, and as he and the Princess 
loved each other, they were married that same day. 

Puss became a great lord, and never did have to 
catch mice again for a living. 


The Story of Cinderella.* 

ONG, long ago, before even your greatest grand¬ 
father was born, there lived a sweet and beau¬ 
tiful young girl whose mother had died when 
she was a baby. Her father married again, and in¬ 
stead of finding a sweet and good woman for his wife, 



*Retold from the original of Charles Perrault. 





STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


( ’O 

)o 

lie found liis second wife was proud and disagreeable. 
She had two daughters who were like herself. Of 
course it is only the good who are really beautiful, and 
those two step-sisters who had thought themselves 
handsome envied the good younger sister when they 
saw how beautiful she was. They treated her cruelly, 
making her do all the hard kitchen work and scrubbing. 
They sent her up to the great garret to sleep on a hard 
straw bed, while they had comforts of all kinds. The 
poor girl dared not tell her father, for fear of the wife. 
So she did as she was bid. And when she had finished 
she sat in the chimney corner to rest, among the 
cinders and ashes. And so she came to be called 
Cinderella. 

Now the king’s son, who wished to get married, 
was about to give a handsome ball so he could see all 
the maidens of the kingdom. The two sisters were in¬ 
vited, and felt sure that one of them would please the 
king’s son. And little Cinderella was kept busy indeed, 
ironing her sister’s linen and ruffles, and helping them 
to get ready. 

They asked her advice, too, for she had good taste. 
Cinderella patiently helped them to dress their hair, 
and when they were all ready they said: 

“Cinderella, don’t you wish you could go to the 
ball f ’ ’ 

“Indeed yes 1” cried Cinderella. 

The sisters smiled. “People would surely laugh 
to see such as you at the king’s ball,” they said as they 
swept proudly into their coach. 

Cinderella fe]t lonesome. She wanted very much to 
go, and she fell to crying in the chimney corner. 

“Hoity-toity, my dear,” said a kind voice, and 
there stood her fairy godmother on the hearth. “What 
is wrong?” 

Cinderella told her. 

“You would like to go to the ball?” asked the fairy 
godmother. 

“0, so much!” sobbed Cinderella. 


64 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

“Dry your eyes, my dear,” said the fairy god¬ 
mother,” and run into the garden and pick me a 
pumpkin.” 

Cinderella did as she was bid, and the godmother, 
standing in the doorway, scooped out the inside. And 
when this was done she touched the rind with her wand. 

In an instant the pumpkin turned into a beautiful 

gold coach. 

“Now,” said the fairy godmother, “bring me the 
mouse trap.” 

Cinderella brought the trap with six little mice. 
Opening the door of the trap, the fairy godmother 
touched each mouse with her wand, and there stood 
six beautiful milk-white horses. 

Then Cinderella brought the rat trap in which 
there was a big rat, and one touch of her godmother’s 
wand changed him into a fine coachman. Then six 
lizards from the garden were changed into six lovely 
footmen, in bright livery. 

“Now Cinderella,” said her fairy godmother, 
“here is the handsomest coach in the whole kingdom, 
with plenty of men to attend you. ’ ’ 

“But can I go in these rags?” cried Cinderella. 

She had no sooner spoken than the godmother 
touched her with the wand. And oh what a change! 
.There stood a beautiful maiden with a gown of cloth 
of silver and gold, and diamonds and pearls fit for 
a princess. And on her feet were the prettiest little 
glass slippers in the whole world. 

Cinderella did not fail to thank her godmother. 
As she stepped into the coach the godmother com¬ 
manded her not to stay a second after midnight. 

“If you do,” said the fairy godmother,” your 
coach will turn again to a pumpkin, your horses to 
mice, your coachman to a rat, your footman to lizards, 
and you will be clothed in rags.” 

Cinderella happily promised to remember. Then 
she was off to the ball! 

The news spread to the palace that a strange and 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


65 


beautiful maiden was on the way, and the prince him¬ 
self came to help the beauty from the coach. And he 
refused to dance with anyone else after she came, for 
he thought her the loveliest maiden he had ever seen. 
She danced most gracefully, and everyone wondered 
who she was. 

Not even her own sisters knew her. 

Oh what an entrancing time she had! But she re¬ 
membered her godmother’s instructions, and when the 
clock struck a quarter to twelve, the prince handed her 
into her fine coach, and she was whisked home. When 
the clock struck twelve all her finery disappeared. 

The first thing she did was to thank her godmother 
for her kindness, and tell her how the Prince had 
asked her to come to the ball the following night. 

When the stepmother and sisters returned, Cinder¬ 
ella opened the door for them, and as they undressed 
they told her all about the ball, and about the maiden 
whom all thought to be a princess. 

1i Will you not lend me your gown and let me go 
tomorrow!” asked Cinderella of the oldest sister. 

“Indeed no! Lend my gown to a dirty cinder maid 
like you!” cried the sister. “You would know how to 
act only as a serving maid. I shall go myself and 
charm the Prince. ’ ’ 

The next night, after the sisters had gone to the 
ball, the fairy godmother came again, and soon Cin¬ 
derella was driving off in her coach. The Prince was 
looking for her, and he was so handsome and danced 
so well that the hours flew by as if they were minutes, 
until the clock struck twelve. 

Cinderella had forgotten the godmother’s warning 
till she heard the clock. At the first stroke of twelve 
she left the Prince and fled like a deer, the Prince 
following. But so swiftly ran she that he could not 
catch her. 

When she reached home she was only clad in her 
old rags, and one tiny glass slipper. 


VOL. 1—5 


66 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


When the sisters came home Cinderella asked them 
to tell her about the ball. 

“The beautiful princess mysteriously disap¬ 
peared,” said the youngest, “and the Prince has said 
he will search for her far and wide, for he loves her.” 

“She dropped one beautiful little glass slipper,” 
said the stepmother, “and he says he will search until 
he finds the foot it fits, and will then marry the maiden. 
You must bind your feet tonight, daughters, so it 
will fit one of you. ’ ’ 

The following day the search began. The king’s 
trumpeter, blowing his horn, rode in front of the prince 
and his men, as they went from house to house. The 
slipper was too small for any princess or duchess or 
any of the court ladies. Finally the coach drew up 
before the door, which Cinderella, in her rags, opened 
for the Prince and the courtiers. 

When the oldest daughter tried to get her foot 
in the slipper, she found it scarcely too large for her 
big toe! When the second daughter tried, she could 
get only her toes in it. 

“Pray let me try,” said Cinderella. 

“Go back to your cinders !” cried her sisters, “and 
do not insult the Prince!” 

“Nay, nay,” said the noble who had tried the slip¬ 
per on the others. “Every maiden in the whole land 
must trv.” 

t/ 

So he knelt and held the slipper for Cinderella. 

“Her feet are twice as big as ours!” cried the 
sisters. 

But to their amazement, Cinderella’s foot slipped 
easily into the little glass slipper, and from her apron 
pocket she took its mate. 

Then there was a hubbub ! The sisters tried to 
snatch the slipper; the prince looked surprised but 
much pleased—for Cinderella was beautiful even in 
her rags. And just at that minute the fairy godmother 
appeared, and touching Cinderella with her wand 
transformed the rags into clothes fit for a princess. 



“OFF TO AMERICA.”—A group of Dutch children have mounted a sail on the old boat, and with their do; 
are starting on a cruise for the Land of Promise. 












STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


67 


The Prince immediately asked Cinderella to be 
his bride, and the sisters, seeing that they had no 
further chance, knelt before Cinderella and asked for 
forgiveness for their cruel treatment. 

Cinderella’s heart was kind and loving, and she' 
readily forgave. And at the great wedding in the 
palace, the sisters were her bridesmaids, and later 
married lords of the court. 

Cinderella and the Prince always lived happily to¬ 
gether, and were kind to everyone in the kingdom. 


A Hero of America. 

WlP^T is very probable that your grandfather, and pos- 
D/*j sibly your own father, remembers seeing and hear- 
ing the man who above all others, is loved by good 
Americans. And this story is about America’s best 
loved man. If you who read this are a big boy or 
girl, you of course know his name. 

When he was small he used to be called “little 
Abe”—but he did not stay little very long, for he grew 
to be a great, tall, lank fellow who outgrew his clothes 
very fast. Those who knew him said he was a very 
odd-looking boy. But inside his odd clothes and his 
odd body, was one of the kindest, bravest, most loving 
hearts that ever beat. 

Little Abe knew all about the ways of the woods, 
and when he was only five years old he tried to help 
by catching fish for dinner. How proud he was when 
he caught the fish and started home with it! As he 
walked along he met an old soldier, who answered all 
the questions the little boy asked—and five-year-old 
boys, you know, can ask a great many questions. Then 
little Abe thought of what his mother had always 
taught him—to be kind to the soldiers. So he gave 
his fish to the old soldier and went home empty-handed. 



68 THE FIEST YEAES OF CHILDHOOD. 


He was happy to think he had done a patriotic act, 
although there was no fish for his dinner. 

This boy laughed much and seemed always full of 
joy; but he did not laugh at people to hurt their feel¬ 
ings; he would have thought that cruel and mean. 
Nor would he hurt an animal. He wrote his first com¬ 
position on kindness to animals, hoping to make the 
other boys stop teasing “terrapins”—the tortoises or 
turtles which they used to torture. 

The little boy was born in a cabin in the woods. 
There were no windows in this log cabin, and there 
was no door to keep out the storms and the cold. There 
was only one room, and in that room a big fireplace 
where the mother did all the cooking for her family. 

Before this fireplace little Abe often sat, while his 
mother read stories from the Bible. As he grew older, 
Abe studied everything he could find, piling branches 
of trees on the fire to make enough light to see the 
print. 

As laughing Abe grew into a big boy he became a 
great reader, although his father, who was lazy and 
wanted Abe to work so he might rest, said that books 
were no good. 

But young Abe with all his reading did more work 
than his father did. And he worked barefoot out in 
the fields, ploughing, mowing and cradling, and after 
work he would read, read, read. 

You boys of today who believe you are having hard 
work at home or in school, stop a minute and think of 
the hard work, little play, no money, and old clothes 
that this boy had, who later became a hero in the eyes 
of the whole world. But do you know what he learned 
through all this hardship? He learned to be generous, 
to be independent, brave, keen, kind and persistent. 

When the Lincoln farm was sold Abe guided the 
four oxen who drew the big wagon that carried the 
household goods from Indiana west to Illinois; and 
while on the way he had fun and made some money 
by playing “peddlar.” He had a stock of pins and 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


69 


needles, buttons and thread, which he sold to the house¬ 
wives along the way. 

When Abe was of age, that is twenty-one years old, 
he started out to carve his own fortunes for he felt 
that he could be of more use in the world if he left his 
father, who gave him no chance. 

Everywhere the raw-boned young man went, he was 
a favorite. His strong arm soon became known far 
and wide; for his hard work and simple life had given 
him great strength. 

There seemed to be nothing that he could not do, 
even to cooking! And never was he ashamed to do 
what work came to his hands. From being a farm¬ 
hand and a woodman, he became a boatman on the 
Mississippi river, then a grocery clerk, a store keeper, 
postmaster, surveyor, and finally a lawyer. 

Abraham Lincoln always hated unfairness, and a 
story is told of a time when he was provoked into a 
fight by a gang of rough boys. Abe’s employer in the 
grocery bragged one day of the strength of his young 
clerk, saying he could walk and run faster, and fight 
better, than any man in the county. Lincoln had no 
desire to fight, and said so plainly. Of course, then, 
he was called a coward. But I think that day was 
the first and last time. 

So a wrestling match was arranged between our 
Abe and a young man named Jack. But both were so 
strong that neither could throw the other. Then Abe 
said: “That is enough: you can’t throw me and I can’t 
throw you.” 

Then they all began to call “coward” again, so 
Abe kept on; but Jack began to play unfairly, to kick 
and to trip, while his friends stood ready to help him. 
Abe hated unfairness, so he quickly resolved to teach 
Jack and his friends a lesson. He had not before 
been using his full strength. Suddenly he lifted Jack, 
the Champion of the Clary Boys, from the ground, and 
holding him at arm’s length shook him as a dog 
shakes a rat. Then he flung him to the ground: 


70 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

\ 

1 ‘Cowards!” he shouted. “You know I don’t want to 
fight, but if you try such unfair tricks I’ll tackle the 
whole lot of you.” 

And so he won the fight. Abraham Lincoln always 
disliked quarrels, and wanted everyone to be peaceful 
and kind; as well as industrious. The same boys that 
fought him unfairly afterwards admired him. 

Little by little the backwoods boy became a great - 
lawyer and a great speaker, and step by step he be¬ 
came better known and better loved. And he was 
chosen by the people to be the President of the United 
States. 

And because Abraham Lincoln was always just, 
and was sorry for those in trouble and wished to help 
them, he believed that the slaves had a right to be 
free; and when he was chosen president, he not only 
tried to save the Union, but to be just to the negroes 
who were struggling for freedom. 

So you see, children, it does not take a great bat¬ 
tle to make a hero, nor a rescue from drowning, nor 
saving life at a fire. 

Abraham Lincoln was the champion of the weak, 
a friend to those in trouble, tender, true and truthful, 
ambitious, bold and brave. In all American history 
there has been no man who was born so low and who 
climbed so high, as the boy who climbed from the 
backwoods hut to be President of the United States— 
our Abraham Lincoln. 

When you are older, you will read all about Abra¬ 
ham Lincoln’s life, and about his death. Let us all 
remember what we must do to become heroes. 


A Hero of England. 

ANY, many years ago, long before anyone yov 
know can remember, lived a boy whose name 
was Aelfred. He was the son of a King of 
England, King Aethelwulf. Instead of going to school 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 71 


or being taught at home every clay like children you 
and I know, Aelfred hunted and rode and lived out-of- 
doors. When he was quite a little chap, not more than 
five years old, he was sent all the way from England to 
Italy, to see the Pope at Rome, and the Pope was much 
pleased with the fine manly little fellow. 

Of course a boy who does not have lessons, does 
not know as much as one who has studied diligently, 
but Aelfred seemed not to care to study until one 
day his mother said to her children: 

“I will give this beautiful book of songs to the 
first one who shall be able to read it.” 

Now Aelfred was very fond of songs and poetry, 
and books so very long ago were quite scarce. His 
eyes danced at the thought of owning the book. So 
he found a tutor for himself, and soon he came to his 
mother again. “ Mother, I can read the songs now,” 
he said. And sure enough, he read them all to his 
mother, whose name was Osburh. And true to her 
promise, she gave him the book for his own, for he 
was the first one of the children who had learned. 

That was the beginning of Aelfred’s desire to 
learn; and many years after, when he was full grown, 
he became a great scholar as well as a warrior. 

In those old days there were many wars, and a 
kingdom was seldom at peace with its neighbors. In 
one year there were nine great battles with the Danes, 
whom the English called the “heathen men.” And 
Aelfred, trusting in God, went forth to meet them and 
was victorious, although the heathen men were 
greater in numbers and were on higher ground. 

Then after that when King Aethelred, his brother, 
died, Aelfred was made King of all England. And he 
made peace with the Danes, who promised not to come 
into the kingdom again. But they did not keep their 
promises, for they came again in great numbers when 
Aelfred was not expecting them, and had only a small 
band of followers. 

Once the King disguised, was staying in a hut in 


72 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


the woods, where one of his men lived. The man knew 
who his guest was, but the wife did not. One day 
the woman set some cakes to bake and bade the King, 
who was mending his bows by the fire, to watch the 
cakes. She thought him only a common man. But 
Aelfred forgot to watch the cakes, and they were 
burned. This angered the woman: ‘ 6 Why not turn 

the cakes and keep them from burning! ’ ’ she exclaimed. 
“You are ready enough to eat them!” Imagine how 
she would have felt if she had known she had given 
orders to and was scolding the King! Probably the 
King knew he deserved it. 

At another battle, King Aelfred captured the fa¬ 
mous banner of the Danes, which they called The 
Raven; and which they thought had wonderful power. 
They would look at this banner when they went to 
battle, and would tell by the way the raven held his 
wings, whether they would win or not. And better 
yet, the heathen king became a Christian and Aelfred 
was his godfather. 

There was not so much fighting after that, and soon 
the Danes left Aelfred’s kingdom alone. And Aelfred 
was a young man only thirty-one years old, after all 
this happened. 

Many stories are told of this king, and I think the 
reason more is remembered about him than about the 
other kings of long, long ago, is because he was a great 
and good King in other ways than in conquering the 
Danes and in being a scholar. He had a beautiful 
character; he was kind and courageous, just and true, 
and he did what he knew to be right, no matter how 
hard a task it was. He was a great and good king, 
governing his people wisely, giving them a good edu¬ 
cation and teaching them by example to be good 
Christians. And men who have written history for 
thousands of years, have always spoken of King Ael¬ 
fred as the best of all the English kings, and as a man 
without a blot on his good name. 

And that is why, for thousands of years and to 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 73 


the present day, King Aelfred is known to all who 
study the history of the world, as Alfred the Great. 


The Crossbowman. 

UNDREDS of years ago, so say people who have 
written true stories of what happened then, there 
lived in Switzerland William Tell, a man who 
knew how to handle a bow and arrow better than any¬ 
one in the country. He was called The Crossbowman 
of Burglen; and he knew how to handle a boat as well 
as a bow. 

Germany at that time governed Switzerland, and 
Albert, Duke of Austria, was the Emperor. He did not 
like the Swiss people and they did not like him. He 
treated them as slaves and made many cruel laws. 
One of his men, the governor of Uri, where William 
Tell lived, was also a cruel, hard man; and he had his 
master’s bonnet put on a pole in the market place, and 
commanded the men of Uri to bow down before it. 

One night when William Tell, his wife and children 
were sitting peacefully at home, William told of the 
governor’s command. 

“Wouldst thou wish thy husband to stoop to such 
an action?” he asked his wife. 

“I should blush for shame if thou didst,” answered 
his wife. 

Shortly after that William Tell went off on a hunt¬ 
ing trip, and with his unerring arrow killed many 
chamois, which he could sell at the market for a great 
price. So off to Altdorf fair he went, sold his chamois 
skins, and bought goods for his wife. 

Now William Tell never once thought of the gov¬ 
ernor’s order till he was stopped by the soldiers and 
told to salute the ducal bonnet. 

“You have insulted our lord the Emperor, by pass¬ 
ing that cap without bowing to it,” said they. 








74 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“It is no more disrespectful than not to bow to a 
cloak or a pair of hose,” said William Tell. 

The governor who was standing near, stepped for¬ 
ward, having heard the soldiers’ talk. 

“Thou art an insolent traitor!” he cried to William 
Tell. 

In the crowd stood the boy Philip, William Tell’s 
nephew, who had the night before persuaded a mob 
of boys to stone the bonnet. In his arms was his 
cousin, little Henrie, the son of the crossbowman. 

As William Tell was recognized, the soldiers cried 
out that the boy who had made so much trouble and 
who had struck the bonnet down from its pole, was his 
nephew. 

“Seize the lad, too!” cried the Germans. 

“Run, run for your life, Philip!” shouted his com¬ 
panions. 

So Philip, who had promised to take care of little 
Henrie, set him down, and ran like a deer. 

Henrie had seen his father, and when Philip dis¬ 
appeared, he cried out and ran to him, asking forgive¬ 
ness for his fault in coming to Altdorf with Philip. 

The angry governor seized the child, despite the 
father’s protests. “I pray thee, harm not the child,” 
cried William Tell. 

“If he comes to harm, it will be by the hand of his 
traitor father! ’ ’ cried the governor. Then he bade his 
soldiers take the boy, and tie him beneath a linden 
tree in the market place, and to place an apple on his 
head. 

“I am told you are the best bowman in all Uri,” 
said the governor. “You have merited a sentence of 
death by your disobedience; but I will be kind to you, 
and if you can shoot an arrow into the apple on the 
boy’s head, your life shall be saved. But if you miss 
the apple or slay the child, you shall be put to death. 

William Tell refused to try to save his life in that 
way, as the trembling hand of a father would not have 
true aim. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


75 


“Then,” cried the governor angrily, “the child, 
himself, shall be slain before thine eyes, ere thine own 
life be taken!” 

“Then give me my bow!” cried William Tell. 
“But let the child not look at me or I shall be unnerved 
and my aim untrue.” 

Little Henric*s cousin and the sister of the thought¬ 
less Philip sprang forward and whispered in his ear. 
“Stand very quiet, dear Henric, for five minutes, and 
you will be forgiven for your disobedience this 
morning .’ 9 

The crowd which had been a noisy one, paused in 
awe to gaze at the brave father who must shoot at his 
little son to save the lives of both. William TelPs 
arms were freed by the soldiers, and his lips moved in 
prayer as he fitted his arrow to the bow string. He 
had selected two arrows, one of which he placed in his 
belt. 

Suddenly his nervous hands strengthened, and his 
damp eyes cleared, and quickly the arrow sped through 
the air. 

Then the market place rang with thunderous 
shouts, for the apple was split in two and the child 
uninjured! The wonderful skill of Tell was proved. 

Before William Tell could escape with his child, 
the governor asked why he had taken two arrows, and 
the fearless Tell answered: 

‘ 1 To avenge the death of my boy if I had missed my 
mark. My next shot would have been for thee.” 

This daring speech angered the governor, and he 
commanded that the marksman be thrown into a 
dungeon. 

Little Henric escaped safely home; but his father 
was taken away on a small vessel by the governor and 
his followers. In a raging storm the vessel was nearly 
wrecked; but William Tell, the skillful, was released 
to steer the boat. 

This he did, and steering it near to a precipice he 


76 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


seized his bow and arrows, and jumped ashore where 
the others could not follow. 

He finally reached his home, and found his wife 
and children safe, but not until with his trusty bow he 
had sent an arrow which rid Uri of the cruel governor. 



Little Saint Genevieve. 

(A True Story of France.) 

ANY, many hundreds of years ago, a little girl 
sat upon a hillside tending her father’s sheep. 

Genevieve, as the child was named, was a lov¬ 
ing and devoted little daughter. Her father was a 
wealthy peasant who owned land near what is now the 
city of Paris in France, and Genevieve helped him 
when she could. On this day as she looked down from 
the hillside, she saw coming into the village of Nan- 
terre a company of horsemen. Leaving her flock, she 
ran after them. 

“Who may they be?” she asked an old woman. 

“The great bishops,” said the crone. “Run along, 
child, and I will watch thy sheep.” 

So Genevieve ran to the church to see them, and 
to pray with them, and to receive their blessing. 

As she arose from her knees when the people left 
the church, the bishop Germanus called her to him. 

“Who taught thee to say thy prayers so devoutly, 
little maid?” he asked. 

“My good mother and father,” said Genevieve, 
“have taught me all I know.” 

“Thou shalt sit beside me at the feast,” said the 
bishop. And sure enough the little girl was beside 
him every moment. 

When the bishop left, he gave Genevieve his 
blessing. 

“Keep this, my child,” he said, giving into her 
hand a copper medal upon which a cross was en- 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 77 


graved, “and remember that God bath given thee life, 
so that thou mayst do his service. Farewell.” 

When Genevieve lost her parents, and went to live 
with her godmother, she lived her simple life as she 
had always done, spending much time in prayer. 
Everyone loved her as she grew to womanhood, for 
she was ever ready to help the needy, and to deny 
herself that she might benefit others. 

During the troublous times of the year 451, when 
Genevieve was about thirteen, the people of Gaul 
were in terror of the enemy, the savage Huns who 
were advancing from the banks of the Danube. Attila, 
chief of the Huns, was cruel beyond words, and all 
seizing their most valued treasures, fled in terror, 
with no thought of protecting the city. 

The gentle Genevieve placed herself on the only 
bridge across the river Seine, and pleaded with the 
people to return to their homes. 

“If we will pray and repent us of our sins, and 
defend our homes, the good Lord will protect us,” 
she said. 

People called her crazy and a fanatic, and threat¬ 
ened her with clubs and stones; but Genevieve did not 
waver. 

“Pray and repent,” she would repeat. 

And when a present arrived for Genevieve from 
St. Germanus who never forgot her, the people began 
to remember how much he thought of her and her 
devotion. And they became ashamed and followed her 
back from the bridge, to pray, and to defend their 
homes. 

And the cruel Attila paused in his advance, and 
Nanterre and Paris were saved for the time. 

In the times that followed, the Roman walls of 
Paris were besieged by the Franks, and inside the 
walls there was despair. The soldiers were untrained, 
and provisions were scarce. 

It was Genevieve, instead of the soldiers, who was 


78 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


brave enough to go beyond the walls for food for the 
starving women and children. 

In a little boat she went, alone, trusting in God to 
bring her to safety. The Franks dared not molest the 
gentle woman, for they looked upon her as one of the 
messengers of the God of Gaul. So she brought help 
from the outside world, and saved many of her people. 

But one brave woman could not hold a city for¬ 
ever, and while she was absent Paris was seized by 
the Franks, and some of the chief citizens were thrown 
in prison. 

She heard also that the leader, Hilperik, was plan¬ 
ning to kill them. 

Did the shepherd maiden falter? No; but with a 
prayer on her lips, and purpose in her heart, she 
passed through the gates as a village maid- 

Straight to the cruel Hilperik she went, in the 
midst of a wild feast of shouting, drunken, warlike 
men. And there by Hilperik’s side she stood, the 
devout maiden, with pity in her eyes, and prayer in 
her heart. 

And the wild Franks were awed, and the leader 
granted what she asked of him, the safety of the pris¬ 
oners, and mercy to all her people. 

Is it a wonder that the people of Paris speak of 
her as Saint Genevieve? 

The little shepherd maid lived to do many quiet, 
noble deeds, and to see the cruel Hilperik’s son, 
Clovis, become a Christian. 

Let us remember Saint Genevieve when we are 
afraid, and trust as she did, in the goodness of God. 


The Baby Moses. 

HIOUSANDS and thousands of years ago tliere 
lived a King named Pharaoh, and whether he 
was good or bad, you will know when you have 
heard this story. A king should be a noble man; a 
noble man should be a good man. 






STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


79 


Pharaoh was the King of Egypt. Now he hated the 
people of Israel who had settled in the land of Egypt 
at the invitation of a former king. He saw how the 
Israelites were increasing, and began to be afraid that 
they might get so powerful that they would take his 
throne from him. 

So he planned how he could stop the Israelites. 
He and his rulers made slaves of the people and gave 
them little food and clothes, while making them work 
very hard. He thought the hard work would kill the 
old people, and burden the young so that they would 
have no strength to bring up families. But the Israel¬ 
ites were brave and strong, and so many boys grew to 
be men that Pharaoh became more and more worried. 
He then resolved that no more Israelite boy babies 
should grow into men. So he ordered his soldiers to 
kill every boy baby that should be born to an Israelite 
family. The girls were allowed to live because they 
would not grow to be men and soldiers. 

Just think of the grief of the poor mothers whose 
little babies were sons. One Israelite mother, whose 
heart nearly broke when she heard the cruel order, 
resolved that in some way she would save her beau¬ 
tiful wee one. So she hid him for three long months, 
and then because it was unsafe to keep him longer, she 
followed a plan that she had made. 

Making a stout basket of bulrushes, she put pitch 
in the crevices so water could not come through. Then 
fondly kissing him, she laid her baby boy in the basket, 
and placed it at the edge of the river Nile in the 
grasses, and left him there. 

But he was not entirely alone, for his sister 
watched carefully near by, without seeming to see the 
baby. 

Soon down to the riverside came the King’s daugh¬ 
ter and her ladies, for their bath. 

Walking by the edge of the river, the Princess 
spied the basket of rushes, and ordered her maid to 


80 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


bring it to ber. And when the little babe was brought 
to her he was crying for his mother. 

He was a beautiful baby, and the Princess loved 
him as she gazed at him. And she pitied him for hav¬ 
ing no mother to care for him. The Princess suspected 
-that he was one of the little ones her father had or¬ 
dered to be killed, but she wished to save him, he was 
so lovely. 

Then .the little sister came to the Princess, and 
asked if she should get a nurse from among the Israel¬ 
ite women to nurse the child. 

The Princess had a kind heart, and the sight of the 
helpless baby made her long to comfort it. So she 
bade the child to bring a woman to nurse the baby. 

And whom do you suppose the sister brought? 

The baby’s own mother! 

That had been the mother’s plan, and it had been 
successful. 

The Princess bade the mother take the child and 
nurse it and keep it for her, and she would pay her 
wages for her work. The child was to belong to the 
Princess, and as her adopted son would be safe. 

So the baby of the bulrushes lived with his own 
mother till he grew old enough to live in the palace; 
and you can imagine how wonderfully happy that 
Israelite mother was to think that she had saved her 
baby boy from death. 

And when he came to the palace to be the son of the 
Princess, she named him Moses. Moses grew to be a 
learned man, very strong and very wise. And many 
years later he saved his own people, the children of 
Israel, from slavery and bondage to the Egyptian king, 
and conquered Egypt and her people. 

The baby found by the side of the river Nile, where 
a sorrowful mother had placed him for protection, 
lived to be one hundred and twenty years old, and 
made wise and just laws for his people. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 81 


The Story of David. 

(Ketold from the King James version of the Bible.) 

NOE there was a little boy, whose name meant 
“Beloved,” and when you are older you will 
read about him in the Bible, for he grew to be a 
great king of Israel. This little boy David—for that 
was his name—was very strong and brave, and he was 
modest, too. He was his father’s shepherd boy and 
watched the sheep in the fields, and kept them safe 
from wild animals. Then, too, he had to pick out good 
green pasture for them so that they should grow fat 
and strong. 

In those old days there were many wars. David’s 
country was called Israel, and his three older brothers 
went into battle to fight against the Philistines. David 
was too young to go. 

The father missed his sons, and when he did not 
hear from them he sent David to camp, with parched 
corn and loaves and cheeses for the Israelites; and 
told him to find out how his brothers fared. 

So David left his sheep and went to the mountain 
camp of Israel as his father commanded. The men of 
Israel were on one mountain, and the Philistines on 
another, with a valley between them. As David ar¬ 
rived they were preparing to do battle, so David left 
his father’s gift in camp and ran among the men of 
Israel to find his brothers. 

But as he talked with them, a great tumult arose; 
and on the hillside opposite stood a gigantic Philistine 
warrior, with coat of mail and helmet and armor and 
shield—the largest and strongest man ever seen in that 
country. 

“He is Goliath of Gath,” said the brothers. “For 
forty days he has come forth each day on the hill 
opposite and has challenged us to send a strong man 
to fight him alone. No one dare meet him, and it is 
the law that the armies can not fight unless someone 
will first meet him alone.” 



VOL. 1—6 


82 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The boy David was surprised that none dared face 
him, and he listened to the words of Goliath. 

“Choose you a man for you, and let him come down 
to me. If he be able to fight with me, and to kill me, 
then will we be your servants; but if I prevail against 
him, and kill him, then shall ye be our servants and 
serve us. I defy the armies of Israel this day; give 
me a man that we may fight together. ’ ’ 

When King Saul and the men of Israel heard these 
words, they were sore afraid. But David grew angry 
that no one from the army of the living God, as the 
men of Israel were called, would meet Goliath, and he 
said to King Saul: 

“Let no man’s heart fail because of him; thy serv¬ 
ant will go and fight with this Philistine. ’ ’ 

But King Saul looked at David, and said, “Thou 
art not able to go against this Philistine, to fight with 
him, for thou art but a youth, and he has been a man 
of war from his youth.” 

Then David said to Saul, 4 ‘ Once I was keeping my 
father’s sheep, and there came a lion and a bear, and 
took a lamb out of the flock; and I went out after the 
lion and smote him, and delivered the lamb out of his 
mouth, and when he rose against me, I caught him, and 
slew him! Thy servant slew both the lion and the 
bear; and this Philistine shall be as one of them, for 
he hath defied the armies of the living God. The Lord 
who delivered me out of the paw of the lion and out of 
the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand 
of this Philistine.” 

“Go,” said Saul, “and the Lord be with thee!” 

And he armed David with his own armor—he put 
a helmet of brass upon his head, and armed him with 
a coat of mail. But when David girded his sword upon 
his armor, and tried to walk, he said to Saul, “I can 
not go with these, for I am not used to them. ’ ’ And he 
put them off. 

Then David took his staff, and chose five smooth 
stones from the brook, and his sling was in his hand. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


83 


So David went to meet Goliath. And Goliath 
thought him a boy. “Am I a dog,” cried he, “that 
thou comest to me with a cudgel? I will give thy flesh 
unto the fowls of the air, and unto the beasts of the 
fields! ’ ’ 

Then David, unafraid, answered, “Thou comest to 
me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield; 
but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, 
the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. 
This day will the Lord deliver thee into my hand; 
and I will smite thee, and take thy head from thee, 
and I will give the carcasses of the host of the Philis¬ 
tine this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild 
beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that 
there is a God in Israel! And all this assembly shall 
know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear; 
for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give you into 
our hands.” 

And then David hastened to meet Goliath, and as 
he ran he took from his bag a stone and put it into his 
sling and slung it at Goliath. And his aim was so good 
that the stone hit the Philistine in the forehead, and 
he fell to the earth. 

Then David drew out Goliath’s sword and killed 
him, and the Philistines fled because their leader was 
dead. And the whole army of Israel pursued the Phil¬ 
istines and gained a great victory. 

The brave boy David became a great soldier and 
fought all the enemies of Israel, and made Israel 
famous. But because he was so great a soldier, King 
Saul became jealous of him, and tried to take his life. 
But David would not kill the king, although he twice 
had the chance. 

When the king died the people of Israel chose 
David for their king, for he was brave, and wise, and 
faithful, and trusted God. 

King David made his people happy and victorious. 
And, although he lived so many thousands of years 
ago, the beautiful songs he wrote have never been 


84 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


forgotten. If you will look in the Bible you will find 
the Songs of David, called the Psalms, just as he wrote 
them. 

The people would gather together to worship God, 
and, divided into two great choruses, would sing 
David’s songs. One chorus would sing one verse, the 
other the next, and then both together. It was won¬ 
derful to hear, as the great processions marched along. 

One beautiful song David wrote when he thought 
of his boyhood days as he tended his father’s sheep. 
It is the Twenty-third Psalm. The words of it every 
child should know, because it is so beautiful. 


The Story of Daniel. 

rgSxJ: (Retold from the Bible.) 

olden days, when Nebuchadnezzar was on the 
A throne, a Hebrew boy named Daniel was cap- 
tured and carried into Babylon to be educated 
to serve the king. Daniel learned quickly, but he 
did not like the ways of the king, and of his son Bel¬ 
shazzar who became king when his father died. Daniel 
worshiped the true God, but the king and his 
court prayed to gods of silver and brass, iron, wood 
and stone. 

Now Daniel was often near the king to warn him, 
but one time when the king gave a great feast to thou¬ 
sands of his nobles, Daniel was not there. If he had 
been he would have told Belshazzar that it was wicked 
to drink so much wine, and to use the golden vessels 
that belonged in the temple of God in Jerusalem. 

There was singing and shouting, and performing 
by dancing girls—the court was brilliant with light and! 
full of noise. 

Suddenly on the wall appeared a shadow, and the 
king and his guests were silent from fear. It was the 





STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


85 


shadow of a hand and the fingers were writing—writ¬ 
ing—on the wall. 

The king trembled and asked someone to read the 
writing; that he who could should be clothed in scarlet 
and gold, and made a ruler in the kingdom. 

But no one was learned enough to read the writing. 
Suddenly someone thought of Daniel, and messengers 
were sent in haste to find him. 

And Daniel, now a man, came, full of dignity and 
full of sorrow. And Belshazzar besought him to read 
the writing on the wall, offering him great honors as 
his reward. 

Then Daniel said he would read the writing, but he 
would not take the gifts. 

And he told Belshazzar and his nobles that the most 
high God had given his father Nebuchadnezzar, a king¬ 
dom and majesty and glory and honor; that all nations 
trembled and feared him. But that when his heart was 
hardened with pride, his glory was taken from him, and 
he suffered until he knew that the most high God ruled 
in the kingdom of men, and was mightier than man. 

And Daniel said that although Belshazzar knew all 
this about his father, and also that the true God whom 
Daniel worshiped was the only God, he had worshiped 
false gods of gold and silver and had used the vessels 
from God’s house to make merry. 

Then Daniel read the writing on the wall, which 
was Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin—“God hath num¬ 
bered thy kingdom and finished it. Thou art weighed 
in the balances, and art found wanting. Thy kingdom 
is divided, and given to the Medes and Persians.” 

And it came to pass as Daniel had said, for Darius, 
king of the Medes, took the kingdom with his great 
army while Belshazzar was feasting. And that night 
was Belshazzar, King of the Chaldeans, slain. 

Darius, the Mede, made Daniel his prime minister, 
and often took his good advice; but the other nobles 
were jealous of Daniel, and spied upon him to find him 


86 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


in some fault. But Daniel was a good and an honorable 
man, and faithful to his trust. 

It was a custom among the Medes and Persians, 
to regard a law once made as forever fixed; never 
could it be changed. So the nobles of King Darius’ 
court thought if they could get the king to make a law 
which the good Daniel would not obey, they could get 
rid of Daniel. 

The king was Daniel’s friend, so these wicked men 
had to hide their plan carefully. Among the Medes and 
Persians it was the custom to worship the king; so 
these nobles went to the king and told him that all 
the great men in the kingdom had decided to make it a 
law that no one should be allowed to pray to any god 
or man in the next thirty days, except to the king. And 
if anyone should disobey he should be cast into a den of 
lions. 

“Now, 0 King,” said they, “sign the writing, that 
it can not be changed, according to the laws of the 
Medes and Persians, which change not.” 

The king must have felt flattered by this honor from 
his people, for without stopping to think he signed the 
writing. 

But Daniel, although he knew of the law, knelt three 
times a day in his room and prayed and gave thanks to 
God, as he knew was right. All the people of Babylon 
knew that Daniel never forgot to pray for he had done 
it from childhood. 

Then the wicked men asked King Darius if the law 
he had made must be carried out; and the king said 
yes. Then they told him that Daniel obeyed him not, 
but prayed three times a day. 

Then King Darius was sorely troubled, for he loved 
Daniel; and he tried to think of a plan to save him; 
but the laws of the Medes and Persians could not be 
changed, and the king was more afraid of his people 
than Daniel was of the lions. 

So Daniel was thrown into the den of lions; lions 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


87 


that were fierce and hungry, and would tear him to 
pieces in a minute. And the king said: “0 Daniel, thy 
God whom thou servest, He will deliver thee.” And 
then a great stone was placed at the mouth of the den, 
and Daniel left alone inside. 

King Darius spent the long night in agony of spirit, 
and in fasting and grieving. And very early next day 
he ran to the den and called to Daniel: ”0 Daniel, 
servant of the living God, is thy God whom thou serv¬ 
est able to deliver thee from the lions?” 

And from out of the lion’s den a calm voice an¬ 
swered, the voice of Daniel: “0 king, live forever. 
My God hath sent His angel and hath shut the lions’ 
mouths that they have not hurt me.” 

Most glad was King Darius when he heard Daniel’s 
words, and he commanded that he be taken from the 
lions’ den. And Daniel was unhurt. 

And the king commanded that those who had 
plotted against Daniel should be thrown to the lions. 
And he sent out a decree to the very ends of his empire, 
that everywhere men should worship the God who de¬ 
livered Daniel. 

And Daniel lived many years after this, loving and 
serving God, and trusting in Him. 


The Story of Jacob and Esau. 

(Retold from the Bible.) 

EBEKAH and Isaac had two sons named Esau 
«and Jacob. Esau was the older, bold and brave, 
and grew to be a great hunter of the hills; and he 
;was his father’s favorite. Rebekah loved Jacob, a quiet 
and gentle lad who cared naught for bow and arrow, 
but loved his mother and the shelter of the tents. 

Rebekah taught Jacob many things that women 
know. One day he made soup or pottage of lentils, a 
kind of bean, and Esau, coming in tired from the fields, 



88 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


asked Jacob to give him some food. But Jacob would 
not give away bis supper. 

Now Esau possessed something that Jacob wanted. 
It was the “birthright,” which meant that he would 
inherit the greater share of the family property and 
the headship of the tribe, at his father’s death. So he 
said: 

“You shall have all the red pottage if you will sell 
me your birthright. ’ ’ 

And as Esau was very hungry and the odor of the 
pottage was very good, he agreed to sell his birthright 
for a mess of pottage. And he ate it and was satisfied. 

This thoughtless act on the part of the selfish and 
greedy brothers, made much trouble. 

Isaac, the father, was now very old and almost 
blind. One day he asked for a piece of venison. Esau, 
hearing, went into the woods with his bow and arrow. 
But Rebekah wished Jacob to please his father, and so 
she and her favorite son played a trick upon him. 

Rebekah made a savory stew of lamb, and gave it 
to Jacob to take to his father. Esau’s body was cov¬ 
ered with rough hair, while Jacob’s skin was smooth. 
So the mother dressed Jacob in goatskin so that he 
should resemble his brother when the almost blind 
father touched him. 

When Jacob carried the dish to his father, Isaac 
asked who it was. Jacob answered: “I am Esau, thy 
firstborn.” 

But Isaac was not satisfied and asked how the 
hunter could have brought venison so quickly. 

And Jacob dared to answer that it was because the 
Lord brought it to him. 

But Isaac was still unsatisfied and groped to feel 
of his son. He felt the hair of the goat skins and was 
puzzled indeed. 

He said: “It is the voice of Jacob, but the hands 
are the hands of Esau. Tell me the truth: Art thou 
Esau?” 

And Jacob answered: “lam.” 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


89 


Now in those days sons much desired the blessing 
of their father before he died. And after Jacob had 
declared he was Esau, the favorite of his father, Isaac 
kissed him and gave him his blessing, and asked God 
to give him plenty of corn and wine and dew from the 
heavens; and that nations should bow down to him. 
And, thinking of course that he was blessing the real 
Esau, Isaac asked that God should make him lord over 
his brethren, and that his mother’s sons should how 
down to him. 

When Esau came hurrying with his venison, the 
father asked again: 4 ‘Who art thou!” 

And Esau truthfully answered that he was his first¬ 
born, Esau. Then the father trembled and said that 
Jacob had stolen his blessing. And Esau was angry 
that Jacob should twice have been dishonest. And 
Esau, though a strong man, wept bitterly. 

“Hast thou no blessing for me, O my father?” he 
cried. 

Isaac knew not what to say, for he had already 
given the best to Jacob, and made Esau his servant. 
And he could call down few blessings on Esau’s head. 

Esau was grieved and angry. He decided to kill 
his brother Jacob as soon as their father should die. 
So Rebekah sent Jacob far away for she feared Esau. 

But Jacob was not altogether bad, although he had 
done wrong. And God still loved him as we love our 
dear ones who have faults. And Jacob showed that he 
valued his father’s blessing, and the birthright about 
which his brother cared so little. 

When Jacob left Beersheba and his mother and 
dying father, he went to find a wife. He went sadly 
and alone. As night came on he rested in the fields, 
and prayed that God would keep him from harm. Then 
with loose stones for a pillow he fell asleep. And 
while he was asleep, a most wonderful and beautiful 
dream came to him. 

He dreamed that before him was a marvelous 
ladder. The foot of the ladder was on the ground, 


90 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and it stretched up and up until the top was lost be¬ 
yond the sky. And lo, angels of the Lord were ascend¬ 
ing and descending. And where it touched the bright¬ 
ness of the sky, there stood the Lord himself, with pity 
in his eyes for the lonesome boy. 

And God said in the dream: 

“I am the Lord, God of Abraham thy father and 
the God of Isaac; the land whereon thou liest, to thee 
will I give it, and to thy seed.” 

This meant that Jacob should have a large family 
and own great lands. 

When Jacob opened his eyes, the ladder of his 
dreams had disappeared, and it was day. And the 
first thing he said was: “Surely the Lord is in this 
place. This is none other than the house of God and 
this is the gate of heaven.” And Jacob called the name 
of the place Bethel which means God’s house. 

And then Jacob vowed that if the Lord would be 
with him, he would give to God a tenth of all his 
wealth. 

And Jacob lived a long and a useful life. And 
Esau did not try to kill him, but accepted presents 
from him. 


The Story of a Great French Artist 

EARLY a hundred years ago there was born m 
Bordeaux, France, a dear little girl baby, who 
was christened Marie-Rosa, and as she grew the 
people who loved her, saw that her eyes were going 
to be deep blue, and her hair dark and curly. Her 
father, whose name was Raymond Bonheur, was an 
artist. He found it very hard to sell enough pictures 
to give his children all the good things he would have 
liked. 

Hoiv do you suppose little Rosa learned the alpha¬ 
bet when she was about ten years old? You could 
never guess! Her teacher was a parrot! Straight 



STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 91 


through the alphabet Polly went, and after each letter 
Rosa repeated, from A to Z. Fancy being taught by 
an old gray parrot! 

Little Rosa and her brothers romped all day in 
the woods and fields. Best of all, Rosa loved the ani¬ 
mals, the fluffy-tailed squirrels, and hopping rabbits 
who were her friends. At home there was an even 
dearer pet, a little white lamb which the children fed 
and played with. 

When Rosa was still little, her family moved to 
Paris. It was war time, and instead of selling more 
pictures, her father sold fewer. And so the mother, 
who was a musician, gave music lessons to help earn 
money. And Rosa and the two brothers were often 
left alone to care for the little new sister, named 
Juliette. 

Then shortly after they came to Paris the dear 
mother died, and left Rosa to be the mother of the 
family. They moved to even poorer rooms, and had 
to climb six long flights of stairs to reach them. 

And all this time she was thinking of the pet lamb 
and the woods and the fields! 

After awhile the children were so lonesome for a 

<0 

pet that they had a sheep. Think of keeping such a 
pet on the sixth floor of a house! 

They loved this pet and took good care of it, and 
every day one of the brothers would carry the sheep 
down the stairs to the green grass, where it might 
nibble to its heart’s content. 

The Bonheur children loved to make scrapbooks, 
and Rosa’s book was full of the animals and flowers 
that she loved. Often and often she made the pictures 
herself, paintings of the pet sheep, of the squirrels and 
rabbits, that she remembered from her home at Bor¬ 
deaux. And her father would shake his head and 
say: ‘‘I am afraid my little girl will never be an 
artist.” 

When the boys started to school Rosa was lone¬ 
some, and although it was a boys’ school, the master 


92 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


asked her to come, too; and she made a very good 
play-fellow, as well as student. Afterwards when the 
hoys went to boarding school, Rosa went to study with 
some nuns in Paris. But she liked better to run off 
to a place which is now called the Bois de Boulogne, a 
beautiful park, hut which was then rough woods. Over 
and over again she ran away from the nuns. 

And what was she doing ? She was generally down 
on her knees drawing pictures with a stick in the dust 
of the road. And what were the pictures? Animals, 
of course; great horses galloping in the wind, and 
long processions of prancing ponies; and deer and 
hounds. 

Once when an old gentleman who watched her said, 
“You draw well, little girl., ,, Rosa answered: “Yes 
sir, my papa taught me. He draws well, too.” 

After this the nuns would not have her in school, 
and she was sent away to learn to sew, as they thought 
she should do. Poor Rosa! She was most unhappy, 
and finally her father took her home where there was 
a new mother. After this Rosa went to hoarding 
school, hut the only thing she could do well was to 
draw, and as she loved to play better than to work, 
she was sent home in disgrace. 

After this little Rosa was very, very happy because 
she was not sent to school again, but was allowed to 
work all day in her father’s studio and in the great 
picture galleries, copying celebrated paintings. But 
although many praised her work, she was not satisfied. 

One day when her father came home she ran to him 
with a sketch of a pet goat, which he told her was the 
best picture she had ever drawn. From that time she 
always painted animals. 

Every day, with a hit of bread in her pocket for 
lunch, she would walk miles into the country till she 
found an animal she wanted to draw, and there she 
would sit all day. Sometimes she drew cows in the 
clover, sometimes oxen at the plow. Very carefully 
Rosa studied all the animals, but still there was much 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


93 


to learn. So she visited the stock-yards in the city 
where she could see each little line and curve of the 
animals. 

By this time Rosa was wearing long dresses, and 
one day when she had climbed onto a load of hay to get 
a better view of some oxen, she found her long skirts 
in the way. It was then that she decided she would 
wear a man’s clothing, so she could more easily go 
where she pleased. So she often wore trousers. 

The first picture with which Rosa won a prize, when 
she was only eighteen, was of two fluffy rabbits nib¬ 
bling a carrot. At the same time, in an art gallery in 
Paris, she exhibited a picture of 4 ‘Goats and Sheep.” 
Of course she knew a great deal about them from her 
pets. 

And just before her father’s death he was made 
very happy by seeing a wonderful picture painted by 
his daughter, called ‘ 1 Oxen Ploughing. ’ ’ Then he knew 
that his daughter had become a great artist. 

How delighted he would have been could he have 
lived long enough to know that people of many coun¬ 
tries loved and honored his daughter for her wonder¬ 
ful talent, and to see her most famous painting, “The 
Horse Fair.” For a year and a half she studied the 
horses belonging to her friends; she went to the coun¬ 
try, she visited horse fairs and markets. And the 
canvas on which she worked was so large that she had 
to sit on a step ladder to reach the upper parts. The 
horses were two-thirds life size. 

“The Horse Fair” was so wonderful that the 
horses seemed really to rear and plunge. Rosa Bonheur 
sold the picture in England for twenty thousand dol¬ 
lars; and afterwards an American purchased it for 
sixty thousand dollars. Today Americans are proud 
to have Rosa Bonheur’s picture, “The Horse Fair,” in 
the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in New York City. 

Rosa Bonheur soon had a collection of pets. 
Among them were horses, sheep, stags, does, lions and 
a monkey. 


94 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Her favorite lion was named Nero. He was a large 
beast, and he lived for years in his mistress’ garden. 
Many times she painted Nero. We can see him in the 
two pictures called “An Old Monarch” and “The 
Lions at Home.” Once when Rosa left Fontainbleau— 
for it was there that she had her studio—Nero was 
sent to the Zoological Gardens. The great beast roared 
all the way to Paris, for he seemed to know that his 
life would be changed. 

Upon Rosa’s return she went to see Nero who was 
blind and dying. She spoke gently to the great beast, 
and with a purr of welcome he came to her. She felt 
so sorry for him that she took him home, and there the 
great beast died, his head on her arm. 

The largest animal picture ever painted was done 
by Rosa Bonheur; it shows ten horses as large as life, 
and is called “Horses Threshing Corn.” 

Rosa Bonheur lived to be seventy-seven years old. 
She received many medals and decorations as rewards 
for her wonderful work. She was the only woman who 
ever received the decoration of the Legion of Honor 
from France; and she also received the Leopold Cross 
from the King of Belgium, and the Commander’s 
Cross from the King of Spain, in addition to other 
high honors and medals. 

Thus did a little blue-eyed romp come to be the 
most celebrated animal painter the world has ever 
known. 


The True Story of a Great Animal Painter. 

mB'HERE was once a man who refused to rent his 
house to the father of a family of children be- 
cause the children had so many pets. Years af¬ 
terwards the youngest boy of this family became the 
greatest painter of animals that the world has ever 
known. The name of the family was Landseer. 





STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL; 95 


Edwin was the youngest of the boys. They all 
loved pets, and romped for hours on Hampstead 
Heath, in London, with big dogs and puppies, old 
horses and funny donkeys. This was away back in 
old times, a hundred years ago. 

Edwin and his brothers loved their pencils, and 
wherever they went they would draw pictures of the 
animals. Edwin’s pictures were always the best. He 
seemed to know how to make them look just like the 
real animals. Before he was five years old he had be¬ 
gun his life work—that of drawing pictures of animals. 

It was a great delight to little Edwin when his pic¬ 
tures were recognized. It is told of him that once 
when he had drawn a picture of an old gray horse, he 
wondered if it would he recognized as Doctor Dobbs’ 
horse. How proud he was when his mother exclaimed, 
“Bless the child! He has drawn the doctor’s gray 
mare! ’ ’ 

Like some other great artists, the little Edwin did 
not care for his lessons, and was often found drawing 
pictures of dogs when he should have been studying 
arithmetic. 

Two of his friends were a fine Newfoundland dog 
and a baby lion, in a shop window. The lion had been 
given to the dog to bring up: but as time went on the 
lion grew much bigger than the dog-mother. Over and 
over again Edwin and his brothers sketched the dog 
and lion, playing, sleeping, and eating. Living with 
the animals so much, the boy grew to know every mo¬ 
tion of their limbs, and every expression of their faces. 

A strange thing which Edwin could do was to draw 
a picture with both hands at the same time—a differ¬ 
ent picture with each hand. Try and see if you can 
do it. 

As the boy grew to manhood, he earned a great 
reputation by his wonderful paintings—pictures of 
dogs, of cats, of monkeys, of lions, of horses, of deer, 
of sheep, of donkeys, and of cattle. In the barn near 


96 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


his vine-covered cottage he had his studio, its walls 
lined with pictures of animals. These pictures were 
so natural that a visitor coming to the studio once 
made a hasty retreat, thinking that Edwin Landseer 
had the room full of live animals. 

One picture that is well-known is called “The Cat’s 
Paw.” Perhaps you have seen it! There is a little 
story to it, as you can plainly see if you study the 
picture. It is of a monkey and a cat. The old monkey, 
knowing how good are hot chestnuts, wished to get 
some for himself when he saw them roasting on top of 
the stove. But he also knew that the stove was hot, 
and did not wish to burn his precious paws. Running 
to where pussy was taking her afternoon nap, he 
picked her up in his arms. Now as we look at the pic¬ 
ture we see what was his plan. He had carried poor 
puss to the stove, and was taking her paw in his own 
to use her paw to sweep the chestnuts from the hot 
fire to the floor. Sly old monkey and poor little puss! 

Sir Walter Scott, the great writer, was a firm 
friend of Edwin Landseer. He lived in a beautiful 
part of Scotland, and when the artist visited him many 
pictures were made of deer, of hunting horses, and of 
dogs. Although the artist went hunting and had a 
chance to kill fine big deer, he loved the animals too 
much to kill them; so instead he quickly made sketches 
of them. 

Every one who owned a dog wished the great artist 
to paint its picture; and there were always dogs await¬ 
ing their turn. 

One day when the painter was at work in his old 
clothes, he heard the neighbors shouting, “The Queen 
is coming—long live the Queen!” Edwin looked and 
saw Queen Victoria of England, on horseback. Quickly 
changing his coat the painter ran to meet her. She 
wished to have her portrait painted. 

The artist was often entertained by the royal 
family; and he painted many pictures of the queen, 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 97 


the king and their children with their pets. Often and 
often he galloped through the parks with Queen 
Victoria. 

The Queen loved him and his pictures, and consid¬ 
ered him such a great artist, that she made him a 
Knight. And from that time, Edwin, the little boy 
who had romped with the animals on Hampstead 
Heath, was called Sir Edwin Landseer. 


The Tinker Boy. 

(A True Story.) 

ITTLE JOHN used to go with his father from 
house to house, and from village to village, help¬ 
ing to mend broken kettles and tin pans. Think 
what fun he must have had! Every day there was 
something new for him to see, and different people 
who used to talk with him. 

Of course he learned a great deal in this way, but 
not just the things you and I would like to learn, per¬ 
haps. John kept his eyes very wide open, and learned 
many things about people that were very useful to 
him when he became a man. And he learned a great 
many things that he might better have let alone, too, 
as you and I do today. 

John’s home was in England in the little village 
of Elstow, near Bedford. He was a wild boy, and had 
his haps and mishaps as we have. The beautiful coun¬ 
try in which he was born was full of fine farms and 
wonderful, large houses. When John was hiding 
among the hedgerows, as he frequently did, he had 
plenty of chance to see and hear everything that was 
going on about him. 

But that little tinker boy had a conscience, just as 
you and I have, and it was not long before he began 
to see that his wild ways were not leading him to be 
a great and a good man; and when he heard the good 

Vol. 1—7 





98 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Puritan men preach, it awakened in him a desire to 
he good. And finally he became a preacher, too. You 
see, bad boys very often come to good ends if they 
just stop to think a bit. A story is told that the tinker 
boy once had his arm raised to strike a cat, when a 
voice from heaven warned him not to do it. Of course 
the voice was his own conscience. 

And so John became known as the Puritan 
Preacher. For a time he lived very comfortably with 
his wife and four children. But in 1660 when King 
Charles II was called back to the throne, John 
Bunyan—for it was he—and all the other Puritan 
preachers had a very hard time of it, because they 
were neither allowed to live nor to preach as they 
pleased, but were persecuted, often thrown into 
prison, and sometimes killed. 

One of John Bunyan’s children was a little blind 
girl, and he loved her dearly, and tried to provide for 
her in every way. 

Preacher John was a brave man, and when he was 
seized by the King’s men because he held what they 
called “disorderly religious meetings,” he tried to 
prove that he was in the right; hut nevertheless he 
was sentenced to he banished forever from England. 
But before this sentence could be carried out, which 
would have allowed him to live a free life in some 
other country, he was thrown into jail in Bedford, 
where he was kept for twelve long years. Just think 
of throwing a man into prison because he preached 
the word of God! 

While he was in jail he never gave up Hope, but 
cheerfully worked at making “tag-lace” to support 
his family; meanwhile thinking very sorrowfully of 
his little blind daughter with no father to look after 
her, except a helpless one in jail. 

That good comes out of hard trials, is usually true, 
and in the case of tinker John, it was very true. For 
while he lay there in jail he wrote his wonderful book 



STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 


99 


called The Pilgrim’s Progress, which has helped mil¬ 
lions of boys and girls and grown people to live cheer¬ 
fully through their troubles. 


My Brother. 



(From an Old Tale.) 

fNCE upon a time there was a handsome little boy. 
He was so busy he had no time to wash his hands. 
He was so busy he had no time to pick up his toys. 
He was so busy he had no time to brush his hair, nor to 
clean mud from his shoes. He was so busy he had no 
time to take his elbows off the table and to eat neatly; 
he hurriedly pushed his food in his mouth any way— 
often with his fingers. He was too busy to stop to 
think of table manners. 

One day he had a visitor. She was a beautiful 
angel, and her name was the Tidy Angel. 

‘ 4 Oh, deary me! ’ 7 she said. ‘ 4 This will never, never 
do. You will have to go live with your brother .’ 7 

“I am an only child ,’ 7 said the boy. 

“Oh, no,” said the Tidy Angel. “Run along to 
the garden, child, and find your brother!” 

The little boy was puzzled, but he thought it would 
be good fun to find a brother. So he went into the 
garden. 

A little bluebird was singing in a tree. 

“Oh, Bluebird, are you my brother?” asked the 


boy. 

The bluebird cocked his little head. 

“I should hope not!” he said. “Glance at my 
tidy feathers and see if I look like you! Just peep in 
my nest and see how orderly it is!—you insult me, 
boy ! 7 7 And the bird fluttered off. 

Then a little rabbit came hopping by. 

“Oh, Bunny, are you my brother?” asked the little 
boy. And he hoped so for the bunny was dear . 



100 THE FIRST YEARS QF CHILDHOOD. 


The rabbit stopped, surprised. “Why, look in the 
mirror, and you will see for yourself,” he said. My 
coat is neat and clean, and I remember to mind my 
mother. No, thank goodness, I am not your brother!” 

Rover, the dog, came out to warm himself in the 
sun. 

“Oh, are you my brother?” asked the little boy. 

The dog held his head high. “Why, no indeed,” 
he said. “I take a bath in the pond every day, and 
you certainly have seen no water in a week. And I 
come when I’m called, too,” he added. “No, I am 
not related to you,” and he walked proudly off. 

The little boy sat down on a stone. 

“Hello, brother!” came a voice over his shoulder. 
The little boy turned quickly. 

There stood a fat pig. 

“I am not your brother!” cried the child. 

“Indeed you are,” said the pig. “Of course you 
are a good deal dirtier than I am, but there is never 
any mistaking our family. Let’s go roll in the mud.” 

“But I don’t like mud,” said the child. 

“Don’t like it,” said the pig. “Yes you do. Just 
look at yourself. Come on and I’ll give you some of 
my left-over food.” 

“I don’t want it,” said the little boy, crying. 

He cried so loudly that the Tidy Angel came to the 
window. 

“Everything indoors is as neat as can be,” she 
said, “and it must be kept tidy. Will you stay and 
play with the pig brother, or will you be tidy and 
come back to live in the house with me?” The Tidy 
Angel stretched out her hand. 

“I will go with you,” cried the little boy, “but first 
I must scrub my hands clean.” 

“Ugh,” grunted the pig brother, as he trotted off. 
“All the more mud and food for me!” 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 101 


It Blows and It Snows. 

H Rf HIS is the story, said Grandma, that my 
grandmother told me when I was a wee mite of 
a thing like you: 

Once upon a time a man lived all alone by himself 
in a great big house at the top of a high hill. And 
at the foot of the high hill there lived a little hoy, all 
alone by himself. 

When the snow came ss-wis-sh against the window, 
the big man went to the little house and knocked on the 
door. 

“It blows and it snows and my nose is froze; oh let 
me come in and warm my toes, and light my pipe, then 
off I goes.” 

“No, you’re so big you will carry me off,” said the 
little boy. 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

And then the little boy opened the door and let 
him in. 

The big man sat down by the fire and warmed his 
toes, and lit his pipe, and popped the little boy into 
his bag—and off he went ! 

But the little boy was heavy, and the man grew 
thirsty, so he dropped the bag by the roadside while 
he took a drink from the spring. 

When the little boy heard the water gurgle he 
climbed out of the bag, filled it up with stones, and ran 
away home. 

Now the big man was very, very much vexed when 
he reached home and saw the trick the little boy had 
played upon him. So the next day he went again to 
the little boy’s home, and knocked on the door. 



102 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

Said he: “It blows and it snows and my noze is 
froze; please let me come in and warm my toes, and 
light my pipe, then off I goes. ’ ’ 

“No, you’re so big you will carry me off!” said the 
little hoy. 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

Then the little hoy opened the door and let him in. 

The big man sat down by the fire and warmed his 
toes, and lit his pipe, and popped the little hoy into 
his bag—and off he went! 

But the little boy was heavy and the man grew 
tined. So he put the bag down by the roadside, while 
he rested a little. Pretty soon the man began to snore; 
and the little boy climbed out of the hag, filled it up 
with sand, and ran away home. 

Now the big man was very, very angry when he 
reached home and saw the trick the little boy had 
played upon him. So the next day he went to the 
little boy’s house and knocked at the door. 

“It blows and it snows and my noze is froze; please 
let me come in and warm my toes, and light my pipe, 
then off I goes,” said the big man. 

“No, you’re so big I’m afraid you will carry me 
off!” said the little hoy. 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Yes, you will!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

Then the little boy opened the door and let him in. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 103 


The big man sat down by the fire and warmed his 
toes, and lit his pipe, and popped the little boy into his 
bag—and off he went! 

But this time the big man did not stop to rest. 
When he reached his big house at the top of the hill, 
he put the little boy into a room, and locked the door. 

When the big man had gone, the little boy looked 
around and he saw a big fireplace. And he climbed 
up and up. And just as he climbed out on the roof he 
heard the big man coming after him. 

“Oh ho!” said the big man. “Now I have you 
safe, and you can not get down.” 

“Throw up to me a rope,” said the little boy. 
“I can tie it around my waist, and then you can pull 
me down.” 

So the big man threw the rope, and the little boy 
caught it, and quickly he tied it about the chimney. 

“Now pull!” called the little boy. 

The big man pulled, and he pulled and he pulled! 
And the chimney fell down on top of him! Then the 
little boy climed down from the roof and ran home. 

And the big man was so scared that he never again 
meddled with the little boy, who lived in the little 
house at the foot of the hill. 



The Little Red Hen. 

’NCE there was a dear, little, tidy, red hen. She 
lived on a little tidy farm all by herself. Her little 
red house was spick and span. And the little red 
hen was so happy she sang from morn till night. She 
had a nice pocket in her tidy white apron. In the pocket 
she kept her handkerchief, the key to her little red 
house, a pair of shiny little scissors, and sometimes a 
sugar cooky. 

Near the tidy farm of the little red hen lived a fox. 
The fox was crafty and sly, and wanted to catch the 



104 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

little tidy red hen, to make a pot of soup for his mother 
and himself. 

But the little red hen was wise as well as tidy, and 
the fox could not catch her. The reason she carried 
her door key in her tidy apron pocket was because 
she did not trust the fox. Every time she went to 
market she locked the door, and put the key in the 
pocket of her tidy white apron. 

Many nights did the fox lie awake to plan how 
to catch the little tidy red hen. Early one day he 
found a plan. 

Said he to his mother, “Put the kettle on to boil 
and have water hot when I come trot, trot, trotting 
home tonight with the little tidy red hen for supper.” 

So the old mother fox put on the kettle to boil. 
And the sly fox slung a big bag over his shoulder and 
went trot, trot, trotting to the tidy home of the little 
red hen. 

The little tidy red hen almost never went out with¬ 
out locking her door. But just as the sly fox hid 
behind the woodpile, out she came to get a stick of 
wood. Then the sly fox slipped into the house and 
hid in the tidy pantry. 

The little red hen hurried in, shut the door tight 
and locked it. 

“Safe inside,” she cried to herself. 

As she spoke the sly fox slipped out of the tidy 
pantry, with a grin on his ugly face. 

Whew! how he scared the little red hen. She 
dropped the stick of wood from her tidy white apron 
and flew straight up to the big beam at the top of 
the room. Then she said to the sly fox: 

“Goodbye. You may as well go home now. I am 
safe up here, you can not catch me. 

“Ah!” said the sly fox. “Just watch me.” 

And what do you suppose he did then? 

He stood on the floor under the little tidy red hen, 
and spun about like a top. Faster and faster he went, 
trying to catch his own tail. The little tidy red hen 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 105 


grew so dizzy she could not see. She grew so dizzy 
she could not hold on to the beam. Pretty soon she 
was so dizzy she dropped to the floor. Then the sly 
fox picked her up and popped her into his strong bag. 
Then he slung the bag over his shoulder and went trot, 
trot, trotting off home. 

But the sly fox cpuld not trot, trot, trot very fast 
because the little tidy red hen was plump and heavy. 
He had a long, long hill to climb. The little red hen 
was so dizzy she did not know where she .was. And 
she was not very tidy. Her red feathers and tidy 
white apron were all rumpled. Her sugar cooky was 
all in crumbs. She was standing on her head in the 
hag 1 

As the sly fox puffed on up the hill, the little tidy 
red hen felt in the pocked of her white apron. And 
there were the shiny scissors all safe. She whisked 
them out, and snip-snip-snip! directly there was a little 
hole in the bag. The little hole was just big enough 
for her head. She poked it out to see where she was. 
In a minute the sly fox put the bag on the ground, 
while he mopped his brow. Snip-snip-snip again went 
the scissors, and out jumped the little red hen. Quick 
as a wink she popped a stone in the bag. With needle 
and thread from the pocket of her tidy white apron, 
she sewed up the hole. Then she flew fast to her own 
little red farmhouse and locked herself safe inside. 

On went the sly fox while the stone bumped his 
back. As soon as he saw his mother he called: 

4 ‘Does the kettle boil?” 

“The kettle boils,” said the old fox. “Where is 
the tidy little red hen!” 

“The tidy little red hen is in my bag,” said the 
sly fox. “And she is plump and fine. We shall have a 
good dinner. Have the kettle ready while I pop her 
in.” 

So the cruel old fox held the cover, while the sly 
young fox opened the bag and gave it a shake. 

Pop! Splash! Splash! Into the boiling water 


106 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


popped the heavy stone. Out flew the boiling water 
all over the sly fox and his cruel mother. 

It taught them such a lesson that they never again 
tried to catch the little tidy red hen. 

The little tidy red hen lived happily ever after in 
her own little red house, and always wore her tidy 
white apron with the pocket in it. 



The Story of the Three Little Pigs. 

»NCE upon a time there was an old mother pig 
who had three little piggies. These three little 
pigs were named Hoggy-Woggy, Piggy-Wiggy 
and Curly-Wurly. Hoggy-Woggy was fat and white, 
and very proud of his spotless coat. Piggy-Wiggy had 
a white coat with shiny black spots; and Curly-Wurly 
was all black. 

One day the mother called the little pigs to her 
and said: 

“My dears, now, that you are old enough to care 
for yourselves, I am going away on a long, long 
journey. I want you to be good little pigs while I am 
gone. Hoggy-Woggy, remember not to be proud, and 
also to love your brother and sister; there are many 
other pigs as handsome as you are, for handsome is 
as handsome does. Piggy-Wiggy, love your brother 
and sister, too, and do not forget to share with them, 
for your fault is selfishness. And little Curly-Wurly, 
I know you will love your brothers for you always have 
done so. Take good care of them. I have built in the 
forest three houses for you. Good-bye, my dear 
children.’ ’ 

After the little pigs had kissed their mother good¬ 
bye, they ran happily out into the woods to find the 
houses she had so thoughtfully provided for them. 

They had not gone very far when something bright 
and shiny caught their eyes. 



STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 107 


And what do yon suppose it was? 

It was a beautiful little house all round and bright, 
made out of glass which shone and sparkled in the 
' sunlight! 

4 ‘Look, look!” cried Curly-Wurly. “There is a 
lovely house for us.” 

“I saw it first!” cried Hoggy-Woggy. 

“No, you didn’t!” snapped Piggy-Wiggy. “It’s 
mine. ’ ’ 

“It’s for me!” cried Hoggy-Woggy. “Such a 
dainty house could only be for me. I will look lovely 
inside of it. ’ ’ 

And he started to run. Piggy-Wiggy followed, but 
Hoggy-Woggy reached it first, ran inside and shut and 
bolted the door in Piggy-Wiggy’s face. 

When Curly-Wurly caught up, Piggy-Wiggy was 
crying. “I think he’s just a mean pig!” he wailed. 
“I wanted that house.” 

Oh, it was a beautiful house! 

Curly-Wurly felt very sorry, but Hoggy-Woggy 
would not let them in, so she said: 

“Never mind,” dear brother. “Perhaps we shall 
find another house just as pretty.” 

So they left Hoggy-Woggy, looking very white and 
dainty through the glass house. 

Pretty soon Curly-Wurly cried: “Oh, oh look! 
What is that?” 

And what do you suppose it was? 

Yes, it was another house, hut not made of glass. 
This one was a beautiful little house all made of ferns, 
and mosses, and flowers, so sweet and pretty. 

Piggy-Wiggy ran as hard as he could into the little 
house, slammed the door in his sister’s face, and 
locked it. 

“Let me in, please,” said Curly-Wurly. 

But Piggy-Wiggy called through the keyhole. 
“No, indeed! This is my house.” 

“Let me come live with you?” begged Curly- 

Wurly. 


108 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“Oh, go away!” said Piggy-Wiggy crossly. “This 
is too nice a house for black pigs.” 

Poor Curly-Wurly felt very sad, but there was 
nothing for her to do but go on. Soon she saw some¬ 
thing through the trees. 

And what do you suppose it was? 

Yes, another little house. But this one was not 
made of crystal nor of ferns: it was red and ugly and 
made of brick. Curly-Wurly loved pretty things, too, 
and sighed when she thought of the other houses. 
Then she smiled. 

“Oh,” she said, “it is nice to have such a strong 
house. I shall be very safe and happy here. I only 
wish my brothers would come live with me.” 

That moonlight night, when all three little piggies 
were snug in bed, the old wolf who lived in a cave 
in the mountain, said to his wife: 

“Don’t be surprised tonight if I should bring home 
a fat and jucy white pig. We have not had a feast in 
a long while, and I know where to find the very best 
eating pig you ever saw.” 

Then he slung a big bag over his shoulder and 
went off in the moonlight. 

Pretty soon something bright and sparkling, like 
diamonds, caught his eye. 

And what do you suppose it was? 

Why, it was a little house all made of glass, and 
inside, fast asleep, was a fat white piggy! 

The old wolf knocked at the door. 

“Who’s there?” said a sleepy voice. 

“Open the door—it’s a friend come to call,” 
replied the wolf as sweetly as he could. 

“I’m asleep,” said Hoggy-Woggy—for, of course, 
the little white pig was Hoggy-Woggy. “Go away.” 

“Wake up and open the door,” said the wolf. “I 
have brought you some grapes.” 

Then Hoggy-Woggy opened his eyes and started 
for the door, when, through the glass he saw the old 
wolf. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 109 


“You can’t come in,” said Hoggy-Woggy. “You’re 
the old wolf and you want to eat me.” 

“Indeed I do,” said the wolf, “and I intend to, too. 
Come, open the door.” 

“No,” said Hoggy-Woggy again. “Go ’way.” 

Then the wolf got cross: 

“Open the door and let me in, 

Or by the hair of my chiny-chin-chin 

I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!” 

“You can’t,” said Hoggy-Woggy. 

But the old wolf knew better; and he huffed and he 
puffed and he blew the house in! Then he chased 
Hoggy-Woggy round and round till he caught him by 
the tail, slung him into the bag over his back, and 
carried him oft home. 

The next morning Curly-Wurly and Piggy-Wiggy 
went to call on Hoggy-Woggy, and found nothing left 
of the house but a mass of broken glass. 

“Oh, oh!” cried Curly-Wurly. “The wicked wolf 
has carried our brother oft. Do, dear Piggy-Wiggy, 
let me come to stay with you tonight, for he may 
return. ’ ’ 

“No, indeed, my house is too nice for you,” said 
Piggy-Wiggy. 

“Then come stay with me in my strong brick 
house,” said Curly-Wurly. “The old wolf can not 
catch us there.” 

“Indeed no, I’ll not go near the ugly old house,” 
said Piggy-Wiggy as he slammed his own door in 
Curly-Wurly’s face. 

That night the old wolf started out again with his 
bag over liis back. After he had walked awhile 
through the woods he smelled something so sweet; and 
what do you suppose it was? 

Why, the pretty house all built of ferns and mosses 

and flowers. 

The old wolf knocked at the door. 

“Who’s there?” asked a sleepy voice. 


110 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“ A friend to see you,” said the wolf in the sweetest 
voice he could. 

4 ‘Oh, go away,” said Piggy-Wiggy, “I’m sleepy.” 

“Open the door and let me in,” said the wolf. “I 
am a friend and have brought you some nice red 
apples.” 

“You’re the old wolf,” said Piggy-Wiggy. “You 
can’t have me, though you did get my brother.” 

“I will have you!” said the old wolf. 

“Open the door and let me in, 

Or by the hair of my chiny-chin-chin 

I'll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house ini” 

“It’s too strong—you can’t,” said Piggy-Wiggy 
as he turned over to go to sleep again. 

Then the old wolf he huffed and he puffed and he 
puffed and he huffed and he blew the house is. And 
chasing Piggy-Wiggy round about, he caught him and 
popped him into his bag. 

Next morning, when Curly-Wurly called to see 
Piggy-Wiggy, she cried and cried to find the house in 
ruins and little Piggy-Wiggy gone, for she dearly 
loved her brothers. 

That night the old wolf started earlier than usual, 
for he had promised his children a pig for dinner. He 
already had one for his wife and one for himself. And 
he planned to cook them altogether. 

So when he arrived at the little brick house it was 
all locked up and Curly-Wurly nowhere to be seen. 
Soon he spied her in the orchard, but Curly-Wurly saw 
him coming up the hill and hid in a barrel. Then, 
when the wolf was under the tree, Curly-Wurly set 
the barrel rolling, and it went so fast down the hill 
that it arrived at the door of the little brick house long 
before the wolf could catch up. And Curly-Wurly 
scrambled out quickly, hurried into the house, and 
locked the door. 

When the old wolf reached the house he was too 
angry to be polite. “Open the door!” he cried. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. Ill 


“You would better go home,’’ said Curly-Wurly. 

* i Open the door and let me in, 

Or by the hair of my chiny-chin-chin 

I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.” 

But Curly-Wurly wasn’t frightened. She knew 
the house was strong. Then the old wolf huffed and he 
puffed and he huffed, and he huffed and he puffed and 
huffed —hut he couldn’t blow the house in. And he 
was so tired he lay right down by the door to rest. 

Now Curly-Wurly had put a kettle of water on the 
fire to boil, and it was quite hot. So she carefully 
climbed the ladder to the little window over the door 
and emptied the kettle on the old wolf! 

Oh, but he howled with pain. And he was so 
frightened he ran all the way home. 

And there were the two little pigs, one tied by 
the right hind foot and the other by the left hind foot, 
to a stake in the ground. And the wolves were so 
excited over Mr. Wolf’s punishment that they did not 
discover that Hoggy-Woggy and Piggy-Wiggy had 
escaped, until they were safe in Curly-Wurly’s strong 
brick house. 

And there the three lived happily ever afterwards, 
and Hoggy-Woggy forgot how to be proud, and Piggy- 
Wiggy forgot how to be selfish. And the old wolf 
learned his lesson, and never again cared to think, 
even, of eating pig. 


The Tale of Peter Rabbit. 

NCE upon a time there were four little Rabbits, 
and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton¬ 
tail, and Peter. 

They lived with their mother in a sand-bank, 
underneath the root of a very big fir-tree. 

4 ‘Now, my dears,” said old Mrs. Rabbit one morn- 




112 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


ing, “you may go into the fields or down the lane, but 
don’t go into Mr. McGregor’s garden; your father had 
an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. Mc¬ 
Gregor. Now run along, and don’t get into mischief. 
I am going out.” 

Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her um¬ 
brella, and went through the wood to the baker’s. She 
bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns. 

Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good lit¬ 
tle bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries; 
but Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away 
to Mr. McGregor’s garden and squeezed under the 
gate. First he ate some lettuces and some French 
beans; and then he ate some radishes; and then, feel¬ 
ing rather sick, he went to look for some parsley. 

But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom 
should he meet but Mr. McGregor! 

Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees plant¬ 
ing out young cabbages, but he jumped up and ran 
after Peter, waving a rake and calling out, “Stop 
thief! ’’ 

Peter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed 
all over the garden, for he had forgotten the way back 
to the gate. 

He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and 
the other shoe amongst the potatoes. After losing 
them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I 
think he might have got away altogether if lie had not 
unfortunately ran into a gooseberry net, and got caught 
by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue 
jacket with brass buttons, quite new. Peter gave him¬ 
self up for lost, and shed big tears; but his sobs were 
overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him 
in great excitement, and implored him to exert himself. 

Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he in¬ 
tended to pop upon the top of Peter; but Peter wrig¬ 
gled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him, 
and rushed into the tool-shed, and jumped into a can. 


STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 113 

% 

It would have been a beautiful thing to bide in, if it 
had not had so much water in it. 

Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was some¬ 
where in the tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath a 
flower-pot. He began to turn them over carefully, 
looking under each. 

Presently Peter sneezed “Kertyschoo !” Mr. Mc¬ 
Gregor was after him in no time, and tried to put his 
foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, up¬ 
setting three plants. The window was too small for 
Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after 
Peter. He went hack to his work. 

Peter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and 
trembling with fright, and he had not the least idea 
which way to go. Also he was very damp with sitting 
in that can. 

After a time he began to wander about, going lip- 
pity lippity not very fast, and looking all round. He 
found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there was 
no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath. 

An old mouse was running in and out over the 
stone door-step, carrying peas and beans to her family 
in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, 
but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she 
could not answer. She only shook her head at him. 
Peter began to cry. 

Then he tried to find his way straight across the 
garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Pres¬ 
ently, he came to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled 
his watercans. A white cat was staring at some gold¬ 
fish ; she sat very, very, still, but now and then the tip 
of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought 
it best to go away without speaking to her, he had 
heard about cats from his cousin, little Benjamin 
Bunny. 

He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, 
quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe — 
scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter scuttered 


VOL. 1—8 


114 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing 
happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheel¬ 
barrow, and peeped over. The first thing he saw was 
Mr. McGregor hoeing onions, his back towards Peter, 
and beyond him was the gate! 

Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow, 
and started running as fast as he could go, along a 
straight walk behind some black currant bushes. 

Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, 
but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the 
gate, and was safe at least in the wood outside the 
garden. 

Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the 
shoes for a scare-crow to frighten the black-birds. 

Peter never stopped running or looked behind him 
till he got home to the big fir-tree. 

He was so tired that he hopped down upon the nice 
soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his 
eyes. His mother was busy cooking; she wondered 
what he had done with his clothes. It was the second 
little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in 
a fortnight! 

I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well 
during the evening. 

His mother put him to bed, and made some camo¬ 
mile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter! 

44 One tablespoonful to be taken at bed-time. ,, 

But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and 
milk and blackberries for supper. —Beatrix Potter. 


The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse. 

;NCE there was a sleek little gray mouse who 
lived quietly on a big farm in the beautiful coun¬ 
try. One day a cousin came to visit him. The 
cousin was from the city. When supper-time came the 
country mouse gave his cousin the best he had, good 
nuts and plenty of barley grains. 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 115 


The city mouse turned up his little nose. 

“Surely,” he said, “you have better food than 
this! How can you live without it! You must come 
to my home in the city and I will show you how to live 
like a king.” 

This was a great treat for the country mouse, and 
he gladly went back to the city with his cousin. Every¬ 
thing was new and strange. The first place they visited 
was the pantry of the great house where the city mouse 
lived. There in a little box through which the mice 
nibbled a hole, was fine fruit-cake. Just as they began 
to taste the cake the pantry door opened and in came 
the cook. Oh, how frightened was the little country 
mouse when his cousin called, “Run for your life!” and 
led the way to a little hole under the dresser. 

When the cook had gone away the little city mouse 
led the way hack to the shelf, and showed his cousin 
a package wrapped in paper. Oh, it smelled so good! 
When they had torn a hole in the paper they found 
a fine cheese inside. Just as they began to nibble the 
cheese, the door burst open and a little hoy saw them. 

“Run!” cried the city mouse, leaving his cousin 
to follow him. 

“I’ll catch you next time!” cried the hoy, as he 
put some cheese in the trap he held in his hand. 

The little country mouse was trembling with fright. 

“Do not go near that trap,” said his cousin. “If 
you touch it, it will catch and kill you. ’ ’ 

As soon as the hoy closed the door the city mouse 
asked his cousin to go into the cold pantry with him, 
and there they found a feast of butter, ancl cream and 
sugar. But although they saw all these good things 
and tasted them, they did not see two gleaming yellow 
lights in the corner, nor the long whiskers beneath the 
lights, till Mrs. Tabby was ready to spring upon them. 

“Fly, fly for your life!” cried the city mouse, leav¬ 
ing his country cousin to follow. 

Oh, that was a race! The poor little country mouse 
nearly died of fright when the cat’s great paw just 


116 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


missed nabbing bis tail. At last be was safe in bis 
cousin's hole. 

“We’ll go back in a minute when the cat is gone,” 
said the city mouse. 

“Oh, no indeed,” said the country mouse. “You 
may go if you wish, but I am otf for the country. I 
would rather eat my nuts and barley-grains in peace 
and quiet than have cake and cheese in the midst of 
such frightful alarms.” 


<3 




STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 117 

73,The Baby Birds’ Golden Toy. - - ^ 

r ^ 

^/hopped from his 


NE day a little^ 
in a big tree and flew straight to a pretty 




A 
the 


house where 

ULJ 





a 




bloomed in the garden, 
was open/and the little bird perched on 

._,,_- Inside the* room he saw a little white 

I . In one corner of the room was a tiny 

. In another a 




bookcase and two small 


doll’s carriage and a beautiful big In 

another some^Joy > a P a * r °f roller skates 

and a 

books and a 


p On a little table were a pile of 


And in the be d, one on each 


pillow, were two tousled 


3 


one with long 


The little bird opened hisbill and trilled 
a song, but the children did not open their 
Then he hopped right into the room, and spreading 



flew to the bed and to one little pillow. 
1 *HovTbeautiful to line my nest!” he said to himself, 
as he picked up ain his bill. He pulled so 
hard that the little girl opened her * The 

little.-S^^ was frightened and he flew off. But 
one long golden hair caught Jr^l^s^ ’ an( ^ 

his little wife^put it in the ^ 
three The babybirds played with it 

and thought/it^was gold because it shone like 
the 

















118 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

/..•’•'•"•••'X //•■“‘X 




{{ Whitey Visits the Kitchen. 

<=5T7 

X)OK had fallen asleep in her chair. 

noise to be heard was the kitchen [ 

& in i j! # // ® 

slowly ticked around its face. Over in the 

u 


The only 
, as the 




corner beside the 


was the home of Whitey, the 


was a little hole, which 
• Whitey came 


slowly oyt, and in a minute he had climbed up the 
, and was eating some crumbs. There was 
a bowl on the table, and also a C:=:::= ^ ! C ::= 7 I n the 
bowl he found someU 





uy, and in the saucepan 
some eggs. WTiitey liked nuts but could not crack 
them. There was also some sugar in the , 

some salt and flour and a 7 of butter. The 
was ready to beat the eggs, and the 
to stir the cake. * 4 I’ll wait till the cake is made,” said 
Whitey. Down from the table he ran, and over to the 

II ii I ^--^ 

*, where a big apple stood on a ^======^ , 

a | silverThe littl^^Z^l^ took 
several bites. Then he smelled cheese. Sure enough, 

UlU 


sT 

with 


there by the 


was a fine 



How 


—r|DD L- 

could he get the yellow"*cheese? He was just going 


into the trap when the 1*>; jnT‘ ' looked in at the door, 
and (crouched to spring at him. So back he ran to his 



in the wall, and kitty lashed her 


angrily because she had lost him. 






































STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 119 



A Visit to the Zoo. 


INY and Tim lived in a little 



in the 


country. One day they were swinging on the gar- 




11 1 
when an 1 


drove up an 4 

* TpH ‘* Opt vmir 


jumped a man. It was Uncle Ted. “Get your 
and see if mother will let you come to the Zoo with 
me,” he cried. Mother said they could go, and away 



drove with uncle'at the / 

I..U J 1 ! I 1.(1, 



. Findl^tlie 





zoo was reached. In one JjTOlf tf J was a great^ 

and in the next a both had comSffrom 

l \ 

Africa. Tinypvas afraid of the lion. Then there was 
a beautiful H ^||t^with_^a baby deer. A great 
(-2\ irom'^liiciia. who 'swung and 

begged^fqr peanuts was next door to a crafty 
The an< ^ a ^‘ 

23» sming ^from a tree by holding on with their 

\ Ac and their cute faces seemed like human 

J si n 1 

faces2>©The big j X)was very funny, too, and 

so was ^theV^C^ and -7 the the^tank. 

After they had eaten lunch, sitting on a 

f —V 

under the trees, they saw the old bald £ . and 

the owls, the ^ r01 ^th^^western prairies, the 




from Africa and the'/|f 
Then it was time to go home after a beautiful day 


from India. 


with the 





O —*2 





































120 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 




T A Trip to Japan. 




OME day perhaps you will travel on a bq 
until you c<mie_ to a beautiful country called 




Japain^^S^^^of many kinds are there, and^the 


little Japanese is fond of wearing 

her hair. Japan is called the Land of the Cherry^Blo^ 
som because it has so many blossoming Hfc&.Ju 



The girl wears her sash tied in a bigj 


the 


wears no sash. When the Japanese^lchild goes 


r jULJ \ 

He sleeps on the 

m 


L 


to sleep, he has no j£li 
floor on a Japanese houses have 





but no glass in them. Even the^§^Js|2§£m Japan 
are different from our Some of the small¬ 

est are thousands of years old.*'* Japanese people do 
not use ^ . They sit on ^g^on the fl° or - 

Nor do they^ have eat their meals 

this way; /V \ . !i Boys in Japan play marbles as 

we do, except they do not quarrel. go about 



1 


rn 

i 



with^babies strapped to their '-.backs. ' When a 
grows up he is a n and a good one. 
Suclr^ strange shoes the children wear—flat straw 


--- l 


fastened on by a band. When they go in 
the they take their shoes off and leave them 

r . / 

vj The little girl /often has gay 

V ^ A- fes/' 

k on her W**' 

( 


outside the 


DO 

dd 


colored flowers and 




































1 . 

2 . 

Japan 


The handsome Children of the King and Queen of Italy. 

A Future Mikado and his Brothers—Sons of the Crown Prince of 
















STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 121 




"Our American Ind^m^Friends. 

OW would you like to be an! Then instead 
of living in a j™g^»|you could live in a 
out under the .skies. That would be pleasant ex- 
cept when the / "pf///:* poured down from the clouds. 



The little Indian baby or 



is very cute. Some¬ 


times it is carried on the back of the mother, fastened 

—uor tv 

on by a gay colored 


Sometimes it is 
( The chief 
7 and all are 



[JL _.at 

* *»'« •«%«•«#• • (X% % 


strapped to a heavy board like this 


men wear a head dress made of 
good shots with 
well how to ride his 




^ . The little Indian knows 
Gw"* from the time he is very 


small.^ Today there are schools for. Indians and 
for them to read if they want to learn. 
They like music, too. The Indian women are taught 
to weave grasses, and some of the they make 




beautiful in shape, work and color. The Indian 
------ 

knows how to use a long rope called a 





% 




:£'Shp 


lariat, and to lasso_w i t h it; but many of them 
are very lazy about working. Some are smart and are 
fleet of IX. • 



Indians always have^ 

Sometimes a littleJCiowa Indian girl carries a 

cMStn 


dressed as a 


ffffi - HaVe you a pair? 


I Indians wear soft leather Ly 






















122 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

r“sfe ir:,^ — 

_ r=LA? — hSz — — /5£S» r^LLta — I—uw , 

Little Children of Other Lands. 



HERE are many children in the 
Mmlike those who live under the 


ar 



who 


/f 2 - . 


encan 

. ^ • Some have brown or yellow faces, 

_ . 

some black, some white like ours. The little.German 
is polite and some day will be a 
the little girls learn to use a 

a/ ~ - 

wear their hair in two 

£-< o>. 


C- 


many 








and to cook, and 
In Germany a great 
are maSe^In China girls have tiny 
but it is the boy who wears a 



Both boys and girls wear the 


and the little 


girl wears a 





with hers. j) Chinese boys fly 


and girls^play with dolls. You have seen 


have you not? Chinese children 


Chinese 


have yellow faces and straight . Thejchil- 

dren of India are brown, and play under palm 
on which grow The Indian makes i( his 

from the palm tree trunk. Men often Yide 


* crrA »r t 

nir T5u/“ > 7. 
1 *-</>• 14# 0 




into__the Indian jungle to hunt ^ 

f&. The children of East Africa are black. 
Camels live in the African deserts, and also funny 
which are raised for their prettyT^^^^^: 

is very large. Some' Africans 
Perhaps they think 
this ^s^jus^as pretty [ as tfle~way we wear them in 


The! Ostrich 
w 

wear rings in their 







our 































CHINESE CHILDREN.— (1) Princes in their silken robes. (2) Three 
little children of the people. 
















STORIES TO READ AND TO TELL. 123 

, "V\ I 1 1 l| 

^\VThe Happy Day.^x '-v 

iy a little lame watched the other 

p boys run down the street with Q) . How 

he longed to go I Foot little Ted had no 
g ood^feet to walk on, nor even to get him on a 

. Ted’s mother had no 



BSDHBI 


TJO-UU J=< 

spend on her boy because her 
While Ted was watching the 


stopped before thell 


loo 


jr 




to 


was empty. 


an 




’ an( ^ a s ^ e PP e( ^out. 
44 Will Ted White and his mother take a ride with me?” 

she called. Ted’s mother carried him downstairs in her 

. ^^ . ± ± ^ 
strong 



. Past telegraph y y y and city 
houses they soon sped, coming to the wooden^^^^^ 
and stone^^^^^^^ of the country. Little 
sat up and looked at them, and scurried"across 

the road. Every tree seemed to be full of 



singing a welcome. By the roadside there was a little 

S on< ^ w ^ r 

they stopped at* an old 





swam. Once 

? - 5 . • ‘=>T c ^ fi V ?:*.:r... 

and had a cool drink 


And again at a farm 



from a 

where the farmer gave Ted a baby / i ' ••"“and some 
. “Oh what a happy day,” cried Ted. “It 
was far better than playing (^0 with the boys.” 
The lad^was happy too, because she had given pleas¬ 
ure to £ 

M . tfrc"cf 

e / a — or an ^ were so 

thoughtful. 


How nice it would be if all people 

•jrtxr =-"=• 

who ha vp /a ^ 




















124 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 



XS* -v 

C(5^ t 5T''’ > Up in the Sky. 



on 



I saw a wonder- 


NE day as I sat. by my l|QJ3 
ful thing in the sky. Do you think it was a 



j) 

f these. 


, or the great dipper, or the 
or perhaps it.yas none of 

Perhaps it was a balloon or a T No, guess 

again. It was bigger than these, and inside of it was 

Ah, now you know: it was an aeroplane. 
the~~l^T yr^ was sailing very fast above the 


a 

Yes,' 
church 
the 



*ch .wAp-v- and the highest , , faster than 

• • —r~ — A r,, » no H ^—r ff 


an the river, faster even than the. 

in i 


rushing by on the 
the 





RStl 


Think how frightened 
little must 4 be of such a monster sailing 

high above the Many years ago the 

was considered just j as wonderful. The steamboat, 
too, was wonderful, and the and the auto¬ 



mobile. Now everyone is used to t hem, an d the 
is the most wonderful to us. A bigi(?^^ down below/ 
must look like a <$>& to the man in the air. Some 


day perhaps we 'shall have our stop at the 

, instead of the^ 

would suit( 
t y-K-r / ' 
miss his 


at the door. That 

w%v.JU. 

would it not, although he would 
It would be sad indeed if the 
spill out, and roll down into the 
and into the wrong_* Then 



Wr0Dg P^f 



a little boy might find a doll 
girl a , 



and a little 

































I .1 


SECTION II. 

r 

' Nature and Animal Stories. 


Introduction. 

HEN I was a little girl I was not strong enough 
to go to school, and I had no brother or sister, 
so you can see that I had to play alone most of 
the time. After my mother had helped me with my 
lessons for the day, she would say, ‘‘Now, dear, run 
out-of-doors to play, ’ ’ and I would hang my head, and 
try to beg off, saying, “I have nobody to play with. 
I should rather look at the pictures in some of your 
big books.” 

You see, I did not know how to be a little out-of- 
door girl. My father knew a great deal about such 
things, and he began to teach me about the creatures 
that were living and working all around me, and after 
I became acquainted with them I could find playmates 
anywhere. I suppose our garden was like a great 
many other gardens, but to me it became the most in¬ 
teresting place in the world, and the tiny people living 
in or visiting it, were quite as good as fairies to me. 
You never know, until you become acquainted with 
them, what delightful folk these little people are. 

Afterward I learned more of the birds and insects 
and animals outside, but I still think that one’s own 
garden is the best place to begin. That is why I have 
written so many of these stories for you about the 
birds and insects and other tiny creatures that you 
can find near home. 

Your friend, 

Clara D. Pierson. 



125 



126 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The White Hen’s Chickens. 

big White Hen had been acting very queerly 
y & for several days. Instead of scratching in the 
poultry-yard with the rest of the fowls, or wal¬ 
lowing in the dust with them, she sat upon her nest in 
the cool and shady poultry-house. When the Man 
came out to feed his fowls, he stood near her, and, 
instead of fluttering down to get her share of the 
wheat he was scattering, she only ruffled up her neck 
feathers and made a queer, cross little noise. She 
kept her bill closed when she did this, and seemed to 
say 4 ‘Ur—r—r—r” way down in under her soft breast 
feathers. 

The Man smiled. “So you want to raise a brood, 
do you?” he said. “Let us see about that.” He 
threw out his last handful of wheat, and lifted her 
gently down to the floor. There she crouched and 
spread her wings, quite as though she were already 
covering a nestful of eggs. This was one of her ways 
of showing what she wanted to do. The Man was 
wise. He had had other Hens beg in this way to be 
allowed to sit, and then he had known them to change 
their minds and leave a nestful of thirteen eggs after 
they had been sitting on them only a few days. 

It is a great pity for a Hen to do that sort of thing. 
It is not fair. You see, she has spoiled the eggs for 
eating by that time, but she has not stayed long enough 
to hatch chickens. So the Man put her back on her 
nest, with only a couple of china nest-eggs under her, 
and stroked her ruffled neck and went away. 

“She won’t spoil those,” he said to himself, “and 
I will let her become very sure of her own wishes be¬ 
fore I give her others.” 

So the White Hen sat there day after day, cover¬ 
ing the china eggs as carefully as though they had 
been real ones, and coming off for only a few minutes 
at a time to eat and drink and stretch her tired 
legs. 



NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 127 


“I know what I want!” she said. “I know what I 
want! I want to sit! Ur — r — r — r —r/” 

At the end of the third day the Man carried her 
away to an old shed, where she found a comfortable 
nest of clean straw laid on wood ashes, waiting for her 
in a cosy box. The best of all was the thirteen eggs, 
real eggs, that lay in it, waiting for her to cover them 
with her warm body. The Man placed her on them, 
and she made a happy little noise and began fixing 
the straw up a bit. 

“You did as well as you could,” she said. “I am 
not finding any fault. But, of course, a person with¬ 
out a bill can not get a nest exactly right. Hands are 
such awkward things to work with!” 

Then she pushed the eggs around with her feet, 
and lowered herself softly upon them. For twenty- 
one long days and nights after that she sat, still and 
patient, on her nest in the dark, quiet, old shed. Once 
in a while she came off to eat and drink, but never long 
enough to let the eggs grow cold. 

The other fowls called to her. ‘ ‘ Come and scratch 
with us,” they would say. “Last night’s rain has 
brought the angle-worms up where we can find them, ’’ 
or, “Come and wallow with us. It is so nice and dry 
for a good dust bath!” 

And the Rooster, who was not so fond of Chickens 
as he should have been, made fun of her for going oft 
by herself to hatch eggs. But do you think that made 
any difference to the patient Hen? Not one bit. She 
stayed in the shed and took care of her thirteen eggs. 
Once in a while she stirred them in their places, turn¬ 
ing them and changing some from the middle to the 
edge and some from the edge to the middle. And that 
was good for the tiny Chickens that were growing 
inside the shells. Whichever way the egg was turned, 
the Chicken floated in the top part of it, and that was 
good for him, too, because it brought him nearer to 
the warmth of his mother’s body, which was helping 
him to grow. 


128 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


At last, one rainy morning, when all the fowls 
looked draggled and forlorn, and when they telt like 
doing nothing but standing around on one leg—on that 
morning, the patient Hen in the shed heard a faint 
tap-tap-tapping in some of the eggs beneath her. Ah, 
how happy she was then! 

“My Chickens are hatching! My Chickens are 
hatching!” she cried. 

One of the Hens in the poultry-yard, a very lazy 
one, heard her, and said with a mean laugh, “One 
would think nobody had ever hatched Chickens before, 
she makes such a fuss over it. ’’ 

From that time on, the White Hen was a very busy 
person. One Chicken after another began hammering 
away at the inside of his shell with his small pointed 
beak. One after another broke a little hole through. 
When this was done, the White Hen could see the faces 
of her children through the openings they had made. 
Do you think she cared then what any of her Hen 
friends said? No, indeed! 

Once in a while she would step carefully off the 
nest, pick out the pieces of broken shell which were 
lying around, drop them over the side of the box, look 
lovingly at the faces of her children, and then step in 
quickly and carefully to warm and dry them again. 

It was not long before some of the Chickens had 
cracked their shells from end to end and got out. They 
were not so fluffy and soft looking as you might have 
expected, hut that was because they were still wet 
with what was left of the egg moisture. 

The Man came out once in a while to carry away 
the hatched Chickens in a covered basket. Every time 
he came the White Hen ruffled her feathers and made 
queer sounds in her throat. That was because she was 
excited, not because she was displeased. You see, she 
had hatched Chickens before, and she understood that 
the Man was her friend. She knew that he was taking 
them away to dry them off in a warm place and care 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 129 


for them while she was so busy. If he had not done 
this, she might have hurt one of them in trying to care 
for the others. 

When night came, he brought them back to her, 
all dry and fluffy and able to take a few steps at a time. 
Then he helped to tidy things and clear away the 
broken shells. “Good luck for you, old Whitey,” he 
said to the Hen. “Thirteen Chickens out of thirteen 
eggs! That shows you took good care of them, doesn’t 
it!” 

Then he scattered grain and poured fresh water for 
her, and left the Hen with her happy little brood cheep¬ 
ing to each other under her broad breast and peeping 
out, once in a while, through her feathers. 

In the morning, when she came off to feed (and you 
understand that her children were too young to be 
hungry), the other fowls strolled over to where they 
could get good views of the Chickens. 

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” cried the Rooster, flapping 
his great wings in the Sunshine. “My poultry-yard 
has the finest Chickens that there are.” 

Most of the others crowded up to say pleasant 
things to the White Hen. “What a fine lot of children 
you have!” they said, and, “quite remarkable to get a 
chicken out of every egg, my dear! So often two or 
three will not hatch.” 

Only the Lazy Hen, of whom you have been told, 
strutted away without speaking to her. “Just like 
her luck,” said the Lazy Hen to herself. “Thirteen 
fine, strong Chickens, all her own, and here I have not 
a single one.” 

But that is exactly like some Hens. They will not 
wait and work for things themselves, and yet will envy 
other Hens that have done so. And the White Hen 
was too happy to mind it in the least. 



t 


VOL. 1—9 


130 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Stubborn Stickleback. 

M|gpHERE was once a young Stickleback who would 
kAm not take advice. It was always so, even when 
he was first hatched, and it is quite remarkable 
that he had lived to grow up. Usually something hap¬ 
pens to such foolish young people long before they are 
grown. If they are Mice, they are caught by Hawks; 
if they are Birds, they are caught by Cats; if they are 
Fishes, they are eaten by older Fishes; or taken in 
nets to be used as bait. 

It is very seldom that any of them live to grow up. 
This Stickleback had been much luckier than he de¬ 
served. Now he was a year old, and was beginning to 
show the handsome red and blue markings which 
Stickleback sons wear in the springtime, after they are 
old enough. 

“I shall build my first nest this year,” he said. 
“I shall build it in a beautiful quiet place, and I want 
you fellows to let it alone. Do you hear?” 

4 ‘Oh, yes, we hear,” answered an older one of his 
companions. “You need not worry about our hanging 
around your old nest. We shall have nests of our own. 
And I don’t care to be seen around with a fellow who 
has two torn fins like yours.” 

That made the Stickleback angry, for they become 
angry very easily when they are red and blue, so he 
swam at his companion and poked, and pushed, and 
flopped, and jabbed with the sharp points of bone 
which stuck out from all his fins. And he himself was 
jabbed with fin bones until both Fishes were lame and 
sore, and the water around them was all cloudy with 
the stuff they had stirred up from the bottom. 

At last, when both were tired, and wanted an excuse 
to stop, they pretended to lose each other in the cloudy 
water, and went away to tell their friends about the 
fight. 

“I guess I finished him,” said the older Stickle- 




NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 131 • 


back. “I always fight until the other fellow swims off. 
The idea of his warning me away from the nest he 
means to build! As though he knew enough to build a 
decent nest! And I am old enough to be his father!” 

That was true, because when Sticklebacks are a 
year old they have children of their own. 

And while he was talking in this way the Stickle¬ 
back with the torn fins was swimming around near 
some dull-colored ones, and saying, “Yes, I am a bit 
sore and lame, but it was worth it all to give that old 
fellow such a thrashing. He won’t be able to swim fast 
for a long time, I can tell you! I always fight until the 
other fellow swims away.” 

And the dull-colored ones, who never fight, bal¬ 
anced themselves in the water around him, and waved 
their fins gently, and said, “Oh,” and “Ah,” in their 
pleasant way. They had heard red and blue fellows 
talk before, and they understood all about it. At last 
one of them said, “Where do you mean to build your 
nest?” 

“Over by that big boat-house,” said he. “It is an 
excellent place there. The fellow I have been fighting 
said it was a poor place, but I guess I know.” 

Again the dull-colored ones said, “Oh,” and “Ah,” 
and opened and shut their queer little mouths as 
though they thought a great deal more than they said. 
You see they were quite interested in the nests that 
were to be built that spring, because all of them were 
planning to lay eggs soon, and they needed to find 
good nests in which to lay them. 

So the dull-colored ones went about together, talk¬ 
ing to each other of different things, and nibbling here 
and there at whatever food looked good to them. It 
was their work to lay the eggs from which the Stickle¬ 
back babies were to come, and the better care they took 
of themselves the more eggs they could lay, and the 
stronger the babies would be which would hatch from 
them. 


132 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The bright-colored ones had their work to do also. 
That was to make the nests ready, and to cover the 
eggs after they were laid, and to take care of the babies 
until they were old enough to care for themselves. 
Each bright-colored one chose his place, and brushed 
the pond bottom clean with his tail, and hollowed it 
out, and lined it with bits of root and water-grass. 
Then he built sides and roof of the same things, leav¬ 
ing an open doorway on one side. 

The Stickleback with the torn fins built near the 
boat-house, and he built with loving care to make 
everything right for the children that were to be his. 
But even while he was thinking of them, and loving 
them, he was very fierce to any other bright-colored 
one that might swim past. And he bragged about his 
nest, and would not take advice about building in a 
safer place. And every little while he would have a 
fight over some silly thing that did not amount to a 
grain of sand. Still, the fighting was really all be¬ 
cause he was a Stickleback, a bright-colored one, in the 
springtime. 

One day the nest was finished and he balanced him¬ 
self in the water near by, and invited his dull-colored 
friends to lay their eggs inside. They were somewhat 
afraid to do so. “It is so near the boathouse,” they 
said. “Something might happen to them. A boat 
might crush the nest, or a Man might step on it, or— 
or—or—” 

But several of them laid eggs and went away be¬ 
fore anything did happen. The Stickleback who had 
built the nest had covered each lot of eggs with fluid 
from his body as soon as they had been laid, and he 
was already planning how to bring up his children. 

“I shall insist upon their obeying me at once when 
I tell them what to do,” he said, “and I shall—” 

But just then the doors of the boat-house swung 
open and the boat slid down on the creaking rollers and 
into the water. It floated away from the house, and 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 133 


when it reached the end of the tie-rope it came oack 
with a jerk. It came gliding straight toward the nest 
and crushed it flat into the pond bottom. 

Ah, then there was a sad Stickleback nest-bnilder, 
and he was angry, too! However, he conld not fight 
the boat, so he went away and brushed another spot 
and made another nest. And now he did not take time 
to fight the other bright-colored ones. When the sec¬ 
ond nest was ready, he begged the dull-colored ones to 
lay eggs in it, and some of them did. He looked so thin 
and tired that they were sorry for him. 

“We have laid nearly all we can this year,” they 
said, “but we will spare you a few.” 

It ended in his having only about fifty Stickleback 
babies, and that is a very small family among their 
people. They were fine, active, sharp-boned children, 
and a great comfort to him, although they had their 
faults. Of course, until they were hatched he had to 
stay close to the nest to guard the eggs, for there were 
many water creatures that would have liked to eat 
them. It was a good thing then that he had practised 
fighting, for it made him a better guardian of the nest. 

One day, when they were all about as long as beech¬ 
nuts, they had a quarrel with some young Minnows, 
and the little Sticklebacks said they were going to tell 
the Snapping Turtle what the Minnows had said about 
him. Then their father spoke very severely to them. 

“I should advise you to do nothing of the sort,” he 
said. 1 i What good would it do f ” 

“The Snapping Turtle would eat them up, if he 
knew,” they replied. 

“Yes,” said their father. “He would if he could 
catch them. But he would eat you first because you 
were there. And then it wouldn’t do you any good if 
they were eaten up. Don’t mind what those Minnows 
say. They were not brought up in nests. They were 
hatched out like most Fishes on the bare pond bottom. 
They don’t know any better. Now take my advice.” 


134 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“Advice!” said a naughty little Stickleback. “Who 
wants advice? I guess I know some things without 
being told.” 

His father looked very, very stern for a few min¬ 
utes. Then he said, “Come with me. I have some¬ 
thing to show you.” 

He swam along with them to the place where he 
had built his first nest. “Right there,” he said 
solemnly, “I built my first nest. I was advised 
not to do so by somebody older than I, but I thought 
I knew best. If I had only taken that advice,” he 
added, with a sad look in his flat round eyes, “you 
would have had at least a hundred more brothers and 
sisters. My children, I was too stubborn, and a boat 
crushed my nest and the eggs in it. * ’ 

“What became of the brothers and sisters we 
didn’t have?” asked one rather stupid little sister. 

“They never hatched,” he replied. 

“Then they are not having a bit of fun now, are 
they?” she asked. 

“Not a bit,” he answered, “and if you go to the 
Snapping Turtle, very soon you will not be having a 
bit either.” 

The Stickleback children whisked their tails and 
wiggled their fins and pointed their heads in another 
direction. “We won’t tell the Snapping Turtle,” 
they cried. “Perhaps the Minnows were only joking 
anyhow! ’ ’ 


The Milkweed Caterpillars. 

T first the Milkweed Butterfly was not a Butter¬ 
fly at all, yet he was the same person then that 
he was later in the summer, when he floated over¬ 
head on his beautiful orange and black wings with the 
white dots on them. It is puzzling to think about, but 
perhaps it is no more queer than that a fat, fuzzy- 
headed Boy Baby, crawling around on his hands and 




NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 135 


knees, should grow into a tall man with shining black 
hair. It is a different way of growing up—that is all. 

In the first place the Milkweed Butterfly was a 
tiny, smooth Caterpillar, with black and yellow stripes 
running around his body. This was what he found 
himself to be when he crawled out of a small green 
egg which his Butterfly Mother had laid on a young 
milkweed plant. Of course, at the very first, he had 
hardly known what to think about anything, and he 
had to take a little time to become used to it all. It 
would have been pleasant to have had some of his 
own family around. However, it was a good thing 
for him that he was the only Caterpillar on that plant, 
and there was a reason for this. 

Butterfly mothers are often careful to lay but one 
egg on a plant. It makes them more work to find one 
of the right kind for each egg, but, since it is for the 
good of their children, they do not mind that. They 
think it more important that a child should have 
plenty of food than that he should have playmates. 
“That,” they say, “can come later. The first thing 
for them to do is to eat and grow.” 

There was nobody to tell this little fellow what to 
do, for he was quite alone. Yet, after he had rested a 
bit, he began nibbling at the tender, juicy milkweed 
with all his might. “This is all right,” he thought. 
“I eat and I rest, and it seems to me that I am grow¬ 
ing all the time.” 

Birds came near him, and even ate some Cater¬ 
pillars of other kinds, but never troubled him. Once 
he heard a Blackbird say, “I’d starve before I would 
eat him. He is one of those bad-tasting Milkweed 
Caterpillars. None of the Birds eat them.” 

After that he was not afraid of anything, and even 
fed on the top side of leaves whenever he chose. When 
other kinds of Caterpillars had to hide on the under 
sides of their leaves, he crawled cheerfully around in 
plain sight, as brave as could be. 


136 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


One morning, when he was at the top of his stalk, 
where the leaves were the tenderest and best, he heard 
a soft noise that sounded like “tk—tk—tk—tk, ” and 
he peeped over the edge of his leaf to see what it was. 
Just below him another Milkweed Caterpillar was 
feeding on what he had passed by. 

“Come up here,” he cried. “The leaves are better 
here.’ ’ 

The new Caterpillar came at once, hurrying along 
as fast as she could on her six slender real legs that 
carried the front part of her body, and managing to 
keep up with the fat and stubby pro-legs that carried 
the back end of her body. As she walked, she waved 
her front filaments prettily forward and back, and 
that was the first time that the Caterpillar above had 
ever noticed filaments. When he was first hatched, his 
were too tiny to be noticed, and since then he had been 
too busy to watch them grow. He saw hers, two long, 
slender, hornlike ones which stood up just behind her 
head, and two shorter ones farther back. They were 
all black. Only the front ones moved easily, however. 

“What are those black things on your back?” he 
cried. 

“They are just what yours are,” she answered, 
and that was the first he knew that he had them. You 
can imagine how surprised he felt. 

“Where did you come from?” he asked, after he 
had curled up enough to see his own filaments, and be 
sure that she was right. 

“I came from the roadside,” she answered. “My 
home was on a stalk of milkweed even larger than this, 
but yesterday a Cow stepped on it and crushed it into 
the dust of the road. Of course I had to move after¬ 
ward. It is sad to be turned out of one’s home like 
that.” 

“Stay here!” he cried joyfully. “Stay here with 
me! We will feed side by side, and when we have 
eaten all the leaves here we will travel off together to 
find a new home.” 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 137 

Then began a most delightful time. They ate close 
together all day, and at night they rested on nearby 
leaves; when the sun went down, they hung on the 
under side of a leaf with their heads toward the tip. 
And often in the night they awakened and ate supper 
together. 

“Why should we not eat in the night?” she said. 
“We grow in the night, and we must have food to 
grow with. Besides,’’ she added, “I would just as 
soon, wouldn’t you?” 

“I would rather,” he replied. “I nearly always 
eat when I do not have to sleep.” 

At last there came a day when they had to move. 
One stalk of milkweed could not grow fast enough to 
feed two such great fat Caterpillars as they had be¬ 
come. So they started out bravely for another home. 
They found it on a clump of milkweed which grew in 
the corner of a fence, an old-fashioned rail fence, such 
as all the little out-of-door creatures like. 

“See,” he cried. “This is the place for us. While 
we eat the leaves from one stalk, the others can be 
growing. We shall not have to take another journey. 
I dislike journeys. They tire my pro-legs so.” 

“Yes, they tire me,” she agreed, “but the worst 
part of it is that we have to stop eating when we 
travel. It seems like such a waste of time.” 

You would have thought from this that they ex¬ 
pected to eat forever. Yet it was only a few days later 
that he found himself no longer hungry. She begged 
him to eat at least one tiny leaf, but he refused. Even 
while she was talking about it, she found that she was 
tired of eating. They stood around all morning doing 
nothing. In the afternoon he had a new plan. 

“I tell you what we will do,” he said. “We will 
crawl over to the fence and spin.” 

4 4 1 was just thinking of that myself , 7 ’ she said. ‘ ‘ It 
is really quite near.” 


138 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Milkweed Butterflies. 

two milkweed Caterpillars crawled slowly 
over to the fence. Somehow they did not feel 
like moving fast. When they got there they 
chose places near together on the nnder side of a rail 
and began to spin little masses of shining thread, like 
tiny, thin cushions fastened to the wood. The queer 
part of it was that neither had seen another Cater¬ 
pillar do this, and nobody had told them how to go 
about it, and yet they knew. 

It had been the same way when they moulted, work¬ 
ing off the old, outgrown skins, and eating them as 
soon as they were used to wearing the new ones, all 
without anyone telling them what to do. 

Now they worked and worked until they felt that 
they had enough thread spun, and began to think 
how they should use it. 

44 I think,’’ she said, 44 that I should like to hang 
from my thread cushion.” 

44 Just what I want to do,” he cried, joyfully, 4 4 hang 
head downward! ’ ’ 

44 Let us do it,” they agreed, and they hooked them¬ 
selves into their thread masses side by side. Their 
coloring was now quite different from what it had 
been, for the bright yellow stripes had turned to a 
dull greenish yellow. Their filaments, too, had be¬ 
come limp and crinkly. 

44 It is queer that I am not hungry,” she said. 

4 ‘I am not either,” he said. 44 I am sleepy, and my 
skin is too tight. I think I shall throw it off before 
long. ’ ’ 

They hung there nearly a whole day, neither eat¬ 
ing nor talking, and looking greener all the time. At 
last she spoke. 

44 I am going to take off my old skin,” she said, 

4 4 and then I mean to find a comfortable position, and 
go to sleep.” 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 


139 


“I will do the same thing,’’ he said. “And this 
time I shall not eat my old skin. I would rather waste 
it than to eat anything.” 

So they wriggled and twisted as they hung there, 
until—Pop—their old skins slit clear up their hacks. 
Then they wriggled some more until their old skins 
were all shoved up into small bundles, and fell to the 
ground. When this was done, they had a great sur¬ 
prise, for their new skins were a beautiful light green. 
They looked at each other in wonder, and could hardly 
believe what they saw. 

“Ah,” he said. “This has tired me very much. I 
should like to hang here and Meep for a while. I think 
I will. When I awaken we will have a good visit.” 

“When we awaken,” she answered. “Now I shall 
fix myself comfortably and sleep also. Good-bye.” 

Then they began a sort of shrugging motion, as 
though they were trying to make themselves shorter, 
and that is exactly what they did. Just how they did 
it, you and I can never understand, because we are not 
Caterpillars, but, when they had finished and hung 
there sound asleep, they were only about half as long 
as they had been, and very much stouter. 

Then another strange thing happened, for, while 
they knew nothing about it, very quickly there ap¬ 
peared beautiful spots on these queer little green 
sleepers, a row of black ones near the top, and a few 
bright golden ones below. 

When they fell asleep, they had no idea how long 
their naps were to be. What they thought about was 
resting. And all over the fields around them were 
other tired Milkweed Caterpillars doing the same 
thing, so that on the lower sides of fence-rails, from 
the slanting under sides of stones, and even from some 
of the older milkweed leaves, there were soon hanging 
hundreds and thousands of these pale green 
chrvsalides. 

Some of them hung in that way for only about 


140 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


nine days. Some hung as long as fifteen. It would 
have been too bad if these two who had gone to sleep 
together had not awakened together. They did, at 
almost the same time, and that was probably because 
they had hung where they had the same shelter and 
the same warmth to help them rest and change. 

One fine August morning the golden spots on the 
chrysalides began to fade away, and instead of a clear 
green there were darker colors, showing through a 
thin white covering. All that day the change went on, 
until there could be seen stripes and bands of black, 
and dark orange, and spots of pure white. 

The next morning the Caterpillars awakened. He 
was the first to stir and stretch. What had once been 
his green skin was now a thin white covering, which 
had protected him from rain and dew. He stretched, 
and—Pop—the covering cracked down his back, and 
he crawled carefully out of it and clung to it with his 
six slender legs. 

“Whew!” he said. “That was sudden! I wonder 
if I am all here?” 

He looked himself over carefully, and found that 
he was a fine great Milkweed Butterfly, with the same 
new colors which had been shining through the cover¬ 
ing. “I seem to have lost a good many legs,” he said. 
“All my fat ones are gone. But then, the others are 
quite enough for me. I shall probably like wings 
much better, as soon as I get mine well dried out.” 

His back was turned to the other chrysalis, and 
now he heard a soft little “Pop” behind him. He 
turned barely in time to see his old friend crawl out 
of her covering. “Good morning!” he cried. “Are 
you ready to fly away with me?” 

“I—I—I don’t know,” she replied. “This is so 
sudden! ’ 9 

“Well, I am not quite ready to start myself,” he 
said. “We can visit while we are drying off and 
stretching.” 

So they hung there and told each other the dreams 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 141 


they had had and compared their new bodies. Color¬ 
ings and markings were the same, except for two black 
pockets which he had, one on each hind wing, filled 
with scent scales. 

“Ahl” she cried at last. “What a beautiful day! 
What a beautiful world! Come, fly away with me.” 

The old homes were left to shrivel and hang from 
the fence rails until the wind and rain should carry 
them away. 

The Milkweed Butterflies fluttered their strong 
new wings a few times to learn how to manage them, 
and then they sprang into the air and flew upward and 
upward, and over and around each other, and back 
and forth, fearless of Birds or any other of the wild 
creatures, thinking only of each other and of the joy 
of being alive. 

A few days later they went back to their old home 
in the field, and near there they spent the rest of their 
lives. It was there that they found the most purple 
milkweed blossoms, and from those they got the honey 
which was now their food. These blossoms were 
shaped exactly right to give good resting-places for 
their hooked feet, and here they felt most at home. 

“It is here that I shall lay my eggs,” she said, one 
day. “I have played long enough, I am tired of only 
play. Now I must find good places for our children 
to grow up.” _ 

The Independent Frog. 

rapIpHE Green Frog had always played alone more 
■EglS} than his friends had. But it is not intended that 
Frogs should play alone so much as some other 
creatures. You can see that by the way in which Frog 
eggs are laid, not one in a place, like those of Dragon¬ 
flies, but in great masses, which soon float together to 
the top of the water in their green jelly covering. 

Perhaps you have seen these eggs, and have 
watched them grow, until the Frog babies inside, 





142 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


called Tadpoles, are large enough and strong enough 
to eat their way out. If you have watched this, you 
know how the Green Frog looked when he was hatched. 
He was a tiny brown Tadpole, who looked as though 
he were nothing but a round head and a tiny pointed 
tail. He had two eyes, a queer mouth, and some small 
breathing-gills which stuck out from each side of his 
throat. To look at him, you would have thought him 
the joiliest sort of Tadpole. The other Tadpoles 
found that he was not. 

“Come, play with us,” they said, wriggling their 
tails invitingly. 

“I don’t want to,” he answered. “I like it where 
I am.” 

“Come, eat with us,” they said, wriggling their 
tails some more. 

“I can find my own food,” he answered. 

Now think of a Tadpole acting in that way. He 
really cared for nobody but himself, and never thought 
of such a thing as helping others have a good time. 
It was so when he had no legs at all; it was so after 
he had hindlegs; it was so after his forelegs began to 
grow; it was so after his breathing-gills began to dis¬ 
appear; and it was so until his tail was quite gone 
when he stopped being a Tadpole and become a Frog. 
Probably it would always have been so if he had not 
had some strange experiences as soon as he became 
a Frog. 

The first night that he stopped breathing water and 
began to breathe air—as every Tadpole has to do when 
he becomes a Frog—that very first night he met an 
old Bullfrog sitting on the bank. When he was a Tad¬ 
pole he had always admired this great, heavy, brown 
creature who seemed to make as much noise with his 
spring song as twenty Green Frogs. Then he always 
hid in the pond-weed when the old Bullfrog was 
around. That was because he had overheard some¬ 
thing which the Bullfrog said to a grown-up friend. 



NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 


143 


“A fine lot of Tadpoles we have this year,” he 
heard him say. “ Those that I have eaten have been 
unusually good.” 

You can imagine how the Tadpole felt after that. 
He squeezed himself farther back into the pond-weed 
and listened as hard as he could. He found out that 
while Tadpoles eat pond-weed and many sorts of 
green, growing things, Frogs eat living creatures. 
He began to understand why there were not now such 
thousands and thousands of Tadpoles as there had 
been in the very early spring. He learned many tilings 
in those days, and he soon decided that one could not 
he safe unless he knew a great deal. So he went among 
bigger and wiser people, and asked questions. The 
shameful thing about it was that when younger Tad¬ 
poles asked him about things, he either would not 
answer, or would mutter something that sounded like 
“Little Tadpoles should be seen and not heard.” And 
that was not being fair. 

One day he asked a Big Tadpole about fathers and 
mothers. “What are they?” he said. “The young 
Kingfishers on the tree up there called the older ones 
that. What do they mean?” 

“Oh,” answered the Big Tadpole, “a Tadpole’s 
mother is the Frog who laid the egg from which he 
was hatched, and his father is the one who covered the 
egg and fixed it to leave. ’ ’ 

“Which are mine?” was his next question. 

“Which?” asked the Big Tadpole. “I don’t know. 
Why should anybody want to know? Tadpoles don’t 
need them like Kingfishers. We can feed ourselves 
and swim around alone. Catch me being a Kingfisher 
and hanging on to a branch with my weak little claws 
while the older Birds fed me! Why they even tell them 
what to do! And once—when a young Kingfisher 
wanted to catch a Fish for himself, his mother 
wouldn’t let him; said he was not big enough!” 

The Young Tadpole felt in the same way, but that 


144 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


was only because he did not know how parents can 
cuddle and love their children. Still, he wondered 
about it, and sometimes he thought he would have liked 
to choose his parents, not because he wanted to love 
and to mind them, but only because he thought he 
would look more like them when he grew up. He 
wanted to have very fine swimming webs between the 
five toes of his hind feet, and he wanted to toe in finely 
with his four-toed fore feet; and in the spring—oh, 
in the spring he wanted large warts on the inside toes 
of his fore feet, such as all the Frog brothers have. 

When he met the Bullfrog after leaving the pond, 
he was no longer afraid of him. He kept a short dis¬ 
tance away, and knew that his long jumping-legs 
would soon carry him far from such a stout old person 
as the Bullfrog, if necessary. 

“I want to ask you some questions,’’ he said. 

“Ugh!” said the Bullfrog. 

“I know that such a great Bullfrog as you must 
have been out into the world many times, haven’t 
you?” 

“Ugh!” said the Bullfrog, who began sliding his 
thin eyelids over his eyes. 

“I want to go, too,” said the Green Frog. “I am 
tired of this pond and all these common Green Frogs.” 

“Ugh!” said the Bullfrog. And now his eyes were 
quite covered by his thin eyelids. 

The Green Frog thought to himself, “How big and 
important he is! I mean to act that way, too, after 
I have been out in the great world.” 

“I want to know the way,” he added. “Is it on 
this side of the pond?” 

“Ugh!” said the Bullfrog, beginning to cover his 
eyes with his thick eyelids. The Green Frog thought 
that this “Ugh!” sounded somewhat like “No,” so he 
decided to swim across the pond and travel over the 
land beyond. 

“I suppose the only way to do is just to keep on 
going?” he said. 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 145 


“Ugh!” said the Bullfrog, and he finished sliding 
his thick eyelids over his eyes. The Green Frog 
thought that this “Ugh!” sounded like “Yes,” and he 
knew better than to ask questions of any Frog who 
had closed both sets of eyelids, because that is a sign 
that a Frog wishes to be let quite alone. 

So he swam across the pond, without even saying 
“Good-bye” to the other Frogs, and started on his 
journey into the great world all alone. Everything 
went well with him for a long time, and he did not 
wish for company. That shows how selfish he was, 
for the right kind of people, you know, can not be 
happy without wishing to share that happiness with 
somebody. 

He passed through a forest and met most interest¬ 
ing people there—Toads, who looked so much like 
Frogs that he thought they were, until he saw them 
crawling about. He met some Land Snails, also, and 
a pair of small Lizards. Above him, in the trees, the 
forest Birds were hopping about and making ready for 
their trip south, and the Squirrels and the Chipmunks 
ran to and fro among the nut trees. 

He had a fright as he came out of the woods, for 
there was a great Rattlesnake sunning himself on a 
warm stone. However, that was soon over, for the 
day was cool and the Rattlesnake only half awake, so 
he passed on safely. 

He reached the lower end of the pasture, and saw 
a queer, glossy, brown wall standing up out of the 
ground, with spearmint and tall grasses and the pretty 
wild blue lobelia growing about it. He leaped back 
and forth around it and wondered what was inside. 

“It must be something very fine!” he said. “ T 
wonder what it is!” 

“It smells like water,” remarked a polite Frog 
whom he had just met. “I live near here and I have 
never seen the inside of it, but it smells like water.” 

“What is the matter with you!” said the traveler, 


VOL. i—10 


146 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


rudely. “I guess if I wanted to know about a thing, 
I would be brave enough to find out.” 

He gave a great leap which took him quite over the 
brown wall and let him fall down, down on the inside 
of it. It was amazing how far he fell. When he 
stopped falling he found himself in cold, clear, spring 
water. It was delightful, for Frogs love to be cool and 
wet. 

He paddled around all the rest of that night, and 
the next day he spent floating happily about with only 
his green head and a bit of his back showing above 
the water. He had plenty to eat, for the Mosquitoes 
had found the spring ahead of him, and had laid their 
eggs in it, so that their children, the Wigglers, were 
there in hundreds. There was only one thing the 
Green Frog disliked, and that was the way in which 
he kept bumping up against the smooth walls when¬ 
ever he took long strokes. That was very annoying. 

The second night he decided to leave the spring 
and see more of the world. So he gave a mighty leap 
and expected to find himself outside the wall. 

He did not! Leaping from water is quite different 
from leaping on land, and the water inside the wall 
was much lower than the ground outside. He tried, 
and he tried, and he tried, but every time he bumped 
against the wall, and slid back into the water. He did 
this so often that the tender white skin of his throat 
and chest became quite sore, and indeed it was torn 
in one small place where a roughness of the tile wall 
had caught it. 

Then he gave up. He could hear all the pleasant 
noises of an autumn evening outside, and he could see 
the moon shining brightly, but he was sad, sad, sad. 
If he could not jump out now, he never could. He 
might live in here, for there would always be foolish 
insects coming to the water. Yes, he could live here, 
for a long, long time at all events. 

He had always thought water and food all he 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 147 


wanted. Now he suddenly knew that he was very 
lonely. “I want some Frog company,” he cried. “I 
want some company. Even a Tadpole would do. I 
wouldn’t eat him. I would keep him for company.’’ 

“Yes,” he added, after thinking for a while, “even, 
if I were starving, I would not eat him!” 

No Tadpole came, and day after day passed and 
left him lonely. At last there was a joyful surprise. 
A Tramp, passing through the pasture, stopped to dip 
up a drink in his hat. The Green Frog slipped into it 
and, because it was so dark down there and the Tramp 
was dazzled by the sunshine, he lifted him out in the 
hat. 

Then what a beautiful world it seemed to the 
Green Frog! He hurried away to the forest and the 
old pond, and he wanted to visit with everybody he 
saw. Even the Bullfrog, sitting in the mud with his 
eyes shut, looked good to him. And the other Green 
Frogs! He found them charming! 

“It seems so good to be home,” he said to a group 
of them. 

“Oh, have you been away!” one remarked. 

And another, “Not long, have you!” 

He never could remember what he replied to this, 
but he decided then that he would be so kind and 
friendly from that time on, that if he ever did go away 
again (and he meant not to) every Frog he knew 
would feel bad. 

When winter came, and it was time for the Frogs 
to bury themselves in great groups in the pond bot¬ 
tom, he begged to be the very middle one in the big 
ball of Frogs who were hugging close together for the 
long, cold weather sleep. 

“I wish you would let me,” he said. “I had such 
a lonely time in that spring.” 

“Oh, let him!” cried three Frogs at once. “He is 
such a nice, friendly Frog! We shall all hug closer if 
he is in the middle.” 


148 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Garter Snake and the Toad. 

JrapPlIE Garter Snake lived under the tool-house 
steps. The Toad lived under the currant bushes 
back by the poultry house. Each was very happy 
until he met the other. Afterward it was different. 
That is to say, it was different for a time. 

The Garter Snake had come first to live on the 
place. The Little Girl saw him and ran into the house 
in fright. The Garter Snake thought her exceedingly 
silly. “As though I would hurt her,” he exclaimed. 
“Some people seem to think that all Snakes have the 
same ways. Why, even a Blue jay knows the differ¬ 
ence between Snakes, but these people who live in 
houses treat us Garter Snakes as though we were 
Rattlers.” 

He had been driven away from other places by 
Men with canes or Boys with stones, so you may be 
sure he watched carefully with his round, lidless eyes 
when the Little Girl returned. She came hanging on 
to the hand of her father, and he was smiling down 
on her. 

The Garter Snake listened hard, and he had very 
good ears, even if they were all inside his head, where 
other people could not see them. He raised his head 
as he lay there in the cool grass, and he ran his dainty 
forked tongue in and out to show that he was wide 
awake. He heard the Man talking as he and the Little 
Girl bent over him. 

‘ ‘ See how pretty he is, ’ ’ the Man was saying. 1 ‘ If 
he were a piece of ribbon or a necklace, you would 
think him beautiful. And he is our friend, if we do 
not hurt him. He will eat the insects that injure our 
vegetables. Even if we should hurt him dreadfully, 
by accident, so that he had to bite to protect himself, 
his bite would not make us sick.” 

The Garter Snake could not understand these 
words. What he did understand was that these were 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 149 


people who knew the difference between him and 
poisonous Snakes. After that he did not fear them. 

It was not many days afterward that he found a 
Toad in the back garden. Toads and Snakes are not 
usually friendly. One reason is that both are hunting 
the same kind of food, and what one catches the other 
can not have. Another is, that a big Snake of any 
kind will eat a small Toad, if he has a chance, so a 
snake is not often given the chance. This Toad sat 
under a currant bush, as fearless as you please. His 
warty, brown back was humped in the comfortable 
way that his family have when resting. His whitish 
throat fluttered rapidly as he swallowed air, for you 
know that is the only way that the Toads, and their 
cousins, the Frogs, have of breathing. His front feet 
toed in, and his back feet, with their half-webbed toes, 
were nearly hidden under him as he rested. 

“Good morning!” he cried, and then, almost be¬ 
fore the Garter Snake had got over his surprise 
enough to reply, the Toad went on. “Were you in¬ 
tending to eat me? I am too large. You might get 
down the back half of me by stretching the fastenings 
of your jaws, but never the rest. My forelegs would 
stick out too far. It would make an uncomfortable 
time for you, and it would be quite unpleasant for me. ’ ’ 

The Garter Snake was so surprised that he stam¬ 
mered. “W—why, no,” he said. “I h—hadn’t 
thought about eating you. I hadn’t thought about you 
at all, anyhow. I didn’t know that you were here.” 

“I am here,” said the Toad. “There seems to be 
room enough for both of us, and insects enough, too.” 

“W—why, yes, plenty,” agreed the Garter Snake. 
He felt almost afraid of the Toad. He had never be¬ 
fore met one that dared to stop and talk with him. 
And he thought that this one had a good deal of sense. 
Then he decided to try being agreeable. “It is a nice 
day,” he said, “so cool and wet.” 

“Yes,” said the Toad, “that is why I am out so 


150 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


early. I usually hide during the day, you know, and 
come out at twilight to hunt.” 

The Garter Snake glided a little nearer. 

“You might better stay where you are,” added the 
Toad. “It will be finer feeding for both of us if we 
do not get too close together.” 

“You are right about that,” said the Garter Snake, 
going off a hit. 

The Toad opened his mouth suddenly, shot out a 
long, sticky tongue that was fastened at the front end, 
instead of at the hack, caught a Fly with it, and swal¬ 
lowed him. “Excuse me,” he remarked. “The time 
for me to eat is whenever I have a chance.” 

“Certainly,” replied the Garter Snake. “That is 
my rule.” Then he lay still, and was more than ever 
pleased with the Toad. 

“I say,” he added, “why can’t we be friends? I 
can’t eat you, and I don’t want to now, anyhow. And 
you don’t want to eat me. And there are a lot of in¬ 
sects for both of us. The people in the house here are 
sensible, and I want to stay, hut it is lonely.” 

“I am willing,” said the Toad, “only don’t come 
near enough to spoil my hunting. Have you any rela¬ 
tives here?” he added. 

“No,” replied the Garter Snake. “I lost my wife 
and children recently, and it is too late in the year for 
me to marry again. It was very sad. ” 

“Ah!” said the Toad, softly. “Ah! Hum—.” 

“Yes,” said the Garter Snake. “She had the chil¬ 
dren out for a glide when they were quite small. A 
Boy came up and frightened her, and she swallowed 
them to hide them.” He paused solemnly. 

“Hum!” said the Toad. “Hum!” 

“Then the Boy picked the whole family up by her 
tail,” the Garter Snake continued, “and I have never 
seen one of them since.” 

“Hum!” said the Toad who knew the way Snake 
Mothers have of swallowing their children until a 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 151 


danger is past, and then letting them out again. 
44 Hum! What a pity she did not think to open her 
mouth and drop a few of the children out for you!” 

“She might have done it,” said the Garter Snake, 
“but I dare say she forgot. Perhaps she thought I 
should not know how to care for them. Perhaps she 
expected to bring them back.” 

A minute later he excused himself and returned to 
the tool-house step. “It is a good thing she kept her 
mouth shut,” he said to himself. “I could never have 
brought up those lively children.” 

Under the currant bushes, the Toad smiled broadly. 
“Never let anybody think you are afraid of him,” he 
said. “Now, if he had come a little nearer to me, he 
might have decided that I was not too big after all. 
It is a good thing that I puffed up so and kept my 
water-bag full. My forelegs might not have stuck in 
his throat!” 


The Foolish Young Mud Turtle. 

^^WUIERE was once a very happy little Mud Turtle. 

He was a very handsome little Mud Turtle, too. 

And he was also very foolish. I will tell you 
why he was all of these things. 

He was happy because he was strong and well, and 
had plenty of water to swim in, plenty of logs and 
sand on which to sun himself, and always enough to 
eat. 

He was handsome because his upper shell of black 
was beautifully fitted to cover his soft little body in¬ 
side, and had red and yellow markings on the top. 
That part of it was arched. The lower shell was flat, 
and colored a soft yellow. On each side was a short 
wall of yellow shell, which connected the top and the 
bottom parts. Through the opening in front of these 
walls, he could extend his head and his forelegs with 
their strong claws. Through the opening back of 




152 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

these walls, he could extend his hindlegs and his 
pointed little tail. When he wished to do so, he could 
draw in his head and legs and tail, and lie inside his 
shell as cosily as possible. 

He was foolish because he thought he knew as much 
as Turtles that were several years old, when he was 
only a few weeks out of the egg. 

So now you know a great deal about this young 
Turtle, and can understand how it came about that he 
had such a time as he did. Perhaps if he had been 
brought up by a very careful mother he would not 
have been so foolish, but one must not blame his 
mother, for she did the best she could. She was rather 
old, and the care of twenty-three children at once was 
too much for her. She had laid the eggs in the sand 
early in the summer, and the sunshine had hatched 
them for her. After that, she and their father paid 
very little attention to them. That is the way of Tur¬ 
tles, but you can see that there is a good reason for it. 
If a Turtle mother took such care of each child as your 
mother takes of you, she would soon die from 
overwork. 

“I’m glad of it,” said this Foolish Young Turtle, 
when the Sandpipers on the beach pitied him for hav¬ 
ing to take care of himself. “I don’t want anybody 
telling me what to do. ’ ’ 

His mother heard this and sighed. She was able 
to advise him now and then, but he never took her 
advice. Sometimes he pretended not to hear, which 
was bad enough, and sometimes he was so naughty as 
to tell her that he did not want any advice at all. 

“I guess I know enough to take care of myself,” 
he said once. “I was not hatched yesterday.” 

You can see for yourself how foolish he was. Of 
course old Turtles know more than young ones, not 
because they are more clever, but because they are 
older. They have had more chances to learn about 
things. 

One morning this young Turtle was seated on a 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 153 


floating log in the pond where he had always lived. 
Several of his brothers and sisters were there, and a 
few of his cousins, and some other young Turtles that 
were only playmates and friends. They had been 
bragging of the things they could do, and making fun 
of the Dragon-flies. Just as they were becoming tired 
of this, a picnic party of children appeared on the 
beach. 

44 What dreadful great two-legged creatures!” ex¬ 
claimed the Smallest Turtle. 

“They are worse than the Cows that come here to 
drink,” said another. “They move around so quickly. 
I dislike people that move too fast.” 

“I saw a Horse once,” began a third young Turtle. 
“I know it was a Horse because I heard the Snapping 
Turtle speaking about him.” 

“You talk like a lot of babies,” said the Foolish 
Young Turtle. “Pm not afraid. I’m no baby. My 
shell is as long as a water-lily bud, and I dare swim 
right over there where they are.” 

The other Turtle children were almost too much 
surprised to speak, and indeed it was not needed, for 
just at that minute the Foolish Young Turtle’s father 
laid one strong foreleg upon the end of the log and 
raised his stubby head as far as his wrinkled neck 
would reach. 

“You may dare,” he said, rather sternly, “but I 
hope you will do nothing of the sort. No Turtle can 
tell by looking at Boys and Girls whether they are 
dangerous or not. The only safe way is to keep as 
far from them as possible.” 

“Aw, go on!” exclaimed the Foolish Young Turtle 
(I dislike to write anything so rude, but he should not 
have said it, if he did not want it repeated). “Aw, go 
on! I guess I know how to take care of myself.” 

Then he started for the shore. The Turtle children 
watched him from the log where they sat in safety. 
His father gave a sigh and sank under the water. He 
felt so ashamed of his son that he wanted to hide his 


154 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


face. He was also fearful of what he might see if he 
watched him. He swam under water as far as he 
could, and then came up in a strip of weeds that grew 
well out in the pond. Here he crawled up on another 
log and drew in his head and his tail and all of his legs. 

The Foolish Young Turtle swam to the shore with¬ 
out being seen by any of the Boys and Girls. He de¬ 
cided to crawl out on the sand, and over to a certain 
stone which looked warm and comfortable in the sun¬ 
shine. He did not intend to stay there, but he thought 
it would be a fine thing to have the other Turtles see 
him on it. He would climb upon it and nod to his 
friends on the log. Then he would swim back to them, 
and hear them exclaim over his courage, and ask him 
how he ever dared to do it. 

He crawled out of the water upon the firmly packed 
wet sand. Everything was all right so far, and the 
Boys and Girls were quite far away. He left the wet 
sand for the dry, and this began to slip and slide under 
his feet, so that he got ahead slowly. However, he 
was half way over to the stone when he heard a loud 
noise and saw the Boys and Girls come racing down 
from the other end of the beach, running as fast as 
they could go. 

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” cried the Foolish Young- 
Turtle, and he drew into his shell and lay still. If they 
did not step on him they might pass him by, and then 
he would try to reach the water. He cared nothing at 
all about climbing on the warm stone now. All he 
wanted was to be safely back with his dear friends. 

He heard the noisy shouts. He felt the ground 
shake under him. Then they stopped. He felt himself 
raised into the air for the first time in his life. It was 
so dreadful. 

Looking out from under his sheltering shell, he saw 
a row of great eyes staring in at him. Somebody 
thumped on his shell. Somebody turned him on his 
back. Somebody set him on the ground again. Then 
all was very quiet, 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 


155 


After wliat seemed to him a very long time, he 
stretched out of his shell to start for the pond. Ah! 
What was that? He had pushed his hindleg into a 
noose of string and a Boy had pulled it tight. 

You can imagine how he felt, a weak little creature 
like him in the power of all those great, strong ones! 
But it did no good now to wish himself on the log. 
They drove him up and down the beach, pricking him 
with twigs to make him go, and, when they tired of 
that, they tied the string to a hush and left him there, 
dreadfully dry and hungry, to pull and struggle and 
tire himself out trying to reach the water, 

They meant to take him with them at night, but, 
luckily for him, they forgot. It was late in the evening 
when he gnawed the string in two, and started for the 
water. His father was back in his usual place by an old 
stump, and the Foolish Young Turtle went to sleep 
beside him. 

“I mean to keep close to him for a while,’’ he said, 
as he looked at his father. “It will be a good thing to 
have his advice now and then. This string on my leg 
will be a good reminder, too.” 

Then he snuggled down inside his shell and went 
happily to sleep. He had learned his lesson. 


How the Ants Worked Together. 

j||pP%ERE were many Ant-hills around the Little 
yIM Girl’s home. In some of them the Ants lived 
%ipf long and safely. Others were destroyed before 
the Ants had been many days in them. In the vege¬ 
table garden they were destroyed by the spading and 
weeding which were necessary to help the vegetables 
grow. In the lawn the Ant-hills were often visited by 
the hard-working Flicker parents, who brought their 
children with them. An Ant-hill does not last very 
long when a Flicker parent stands beside it, picking 




156 THE HIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


up an Ant with every motion of his head, and swallow¬ 
ing twenty or thirty before he stops. When he does 
stop, you know, it is only long enough to unswallow 
(or regurgitate) these Ants into the mouth of his 
waiting child, who then swallows them to keep. 

You can see that, with so many things happening, 
the Ants who can, must bring up large families every 
year, else the world would soon be without any Ants 
at all. And to bring up Ants as they should be 
brought up, means a good deal of work. 

Those who lived in the greatest safety were the 
Ants who built their homes under an old brick walk, 
behind the Little GirFs house. Here there were no 
spades or hoes to bother them, and the Flickers did 
not come. The narrow spaces between the bricks 
were wide enough for the Ants to pass in and out, but 
they were too narrow to let the Flickers feed 
comfortably. 

On a warm afternoon in early summer, a crowd 
of winged Ants came forth from all these neat little 
Ant-hills to fly in the warm sunshine. They were the 
young males or Lazy Ones and the young Queens, and 
they were out for their flight, after having been cared 
for all their lives by the crowd of Workers in each 
Ant-hill. Some of the Workers stood by the entrance 
of the biggest Ant-hill to see their swarm of young 
people go. 

“Well,” said one Worker, “these children are 
safely grown up.” 

“It is a good deal of work,” remarked another. 
“First guarding the eggs, then feeding the little Ant 
Larvae when they hatch, then caring for the cocoons, 
then helping the children out of their cocoons when 
they are fully grown and ready to come out. I am 
really very tired.” 

“What are you going to do about it?” asked a 
third worker.. “There are more eggs and cocoons in 
the Ant-hill right now.” 

“Do? Do?” said the second Worker. “Why I 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 157 


am going to care for them as well as I can, of course. 
It is the most interesting work in the world, this bring¬ 
ing up children. ” 

They looked into the air, where hundreds and 
thousands of young winged Ants were silently flying 
to and fro, and sighed because they knew that now the 
young ones would have to care for themselves as best 
they could, and because they knew that some of them 
would he foolish, and get into trouble. 

They could see them plainly, for Ants have very 
keen sight, and they could remember all about their 
babyhood, for Ants have wonderful memories. But 
they soon went down into the Ant-hill again, and 
bustled about, busily caring for the babies. 

“I wonder if we shall have any new Queens when 
this flight is over?” said one, stopping long enough to 
stroke another with her feelers and pet her with her 
front legs, as Ants do when talking to each other. 

“We must watch and bring one in when the young 
Ants return/’ said another. “Our old Queen can not 
lay eggs enough for a large colony, and we might as 
well have a second Queen to help.” 

They worked as busily as ever, and were just put¬ 
ting the last Larva in the place where he was to stay 
over night, when the Queen called to them. “Are the 
Larvae all tucked away?” she asked. 

“All of them,” answered the Workers, who looked 
quite small when standing beside her—she was so 
much larger than they. “We never neglect the Larvae,” 
they added. “They are such dear babies and, of 
course, they have to be carried around to the warmest 
places, because they have no legs.” 

“Then some of you should watch for the return of 
the winged ones,” said the Queen. We ought to have 
a fine large Ant-hill here, and I can not lay any more 
eggs than I can.” 

“We will run right out into the sunshine and watch 
for them,” said the Workers. “We should like to go. 
It is pleasant there.” And they hurried away. 


158 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Queen took time to stroke her head with her 
front legs and waved her feelers thoughtfully. “I 
have almost forgotten what sunshine is,” she re¬ 
marked to herself. “If I were not a Queen I should 
go to see, but I must do my queenly work and lay eggs. 
That is what it means to be a real Queen, to do the 
most important work and to do it well.” 

But after she was busy with her eggs, she stopped 
again to stroke her head and say, “What is sunshine? 
It must be something to eat, but I have quite forgotten 
how it tastes.” 

On the brick walk above, the Workers watched for 
the silent flash of thousands of clear wings in the air 
over their heads. “Here they come!” cried one. “I 
hope they have had a good time. I wonder how it feels 
to fly?” She said this because Workers never have 
wings. All that they know about it is what the Queens 
can tell them, and the Queens fly only once. 

“Now we must watch for the young Queens,” cried 
another. “Never mind the Lazy Ones.” 

“How shall I know the Queens?” asked a young 
Worker, who had never watched the return of a 
swarm. 

“Look for an Ant that is taking off her wings,” 
answered an older Worker. “The Queens unfasten 
their wings at once, because they do not mean to use 
them again. Then we will pick out the one we want, 
and carry her home with us, and care for her the rest 
of her life.” 

“Who will care for the Lazy Ones?” asked the 
young Worker. 

The older Workers looked at each other and 
smiled sadly. “The Lazy Ones will not need care,” 
they said gently. “The truth is that they are too lazy 
to live.” 

The young Worker did not understand this, and it 
was not until she saw the dead Lazy Ones lying all 
around the busy young Queens that she understood 
the truth. The Lazy Ones had finished their lives. 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 159 


The only useful thing they had ever done was to go 
with and guard the young Queens. When the Queens 
were done flying, the Lazy Ones had nothing to live 
for. They could not lay eggs and would not fight to 
protect the Ant-hill or care for the babies. They just 
died, and it seemed all right to them to die, for 
each Ant always appears to think his way of doing is 
the best way. 

When the Queens were taking off their wings, the 
Workers found the one they wished to take home with 
them. They gathered around and helped her with her 
wings, and pushed the Lazy Ones out of her way. 

“Come to our Ant-hill and be a Queen there ,’ 9 they 
begged. “We need you.” 

“Do you really?” she asked, and pretended to be 
greatly surprised. 

The Workers gathered around her more closely 
still, and stroked and petted her to help her decide. 
“We really do,” they said. “Our old Queen needs 
help about the egg-laying. We have a lovely place 
for a large Ant-hill, you know, if we can only have 
eggs enough to hatch out the Ants.” 

“I had thought of going off to live by myself,” 
murmured the young Queen slowly. 

“But think,” said the Workers, “if you do that 
you will have to do all the work, and your children 
will not have the proper care.” 

The young Queen felt that this might be true, and 
she loved her children already, even though she had 
not laid a single one of the eggs from which they were 
to be hatched. Queens often love in that way. 

“Well,” she said. “W—well, perhaps I will, on 
account of mv children.” 

Then the Workers made a happy little procession 
to the brick walk, and carried her, and promised to 
care for her faithfully. “We will make you very 
happy,” they said. “And see what a beautiful place 
this is for a home, all brick on top, you know!” 

And they lived together happily ever afterward. 


160 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Rude Young Dragon-Flies. 

!) 

RAGON-FLY children are very good about one 
thing, and that is helping themselves. It is be¬ 
cause of the way in which they grow up. They 
have to help themselves. Nobody else ever does any¬ 
thing for them, so, of course, it seems the most natural 
thing in the world to them. 

Dragon-fly mothers are fond of flying around in the 
sunshine, and make very easy work of egg-laying. 
Often, when one of them has an egg ready to lay, she 
merely flies low enough to touch the tip of her body 
to the water, drops the egg into it, and sails away 
through the air again. The egg sinks to the bottom 
of the pond, and, if nothing crushes it and nobody 
eats it, after a while a short, fat, little Dragon-fly 
Larva hatches out of it. 

You can see how different that is from the way in 
which the Stickleback children hatch, or even the 
Minnows, for, where the eggs are scattered so, each 
Larva begins life quite alone. There is nobody to tell 
him what to eat, and he is always extremely hungry, 
so he begins by eating every living thing that is small 
enough to go into his stomach. He does not outgrow 
this habit. That is why Dragon-flies are never popu¬ 
lar with other insects and small pond dwellers, and 
the pond children are not allowed to play with them 
at all. 

Each Larva has to learn to help himself, and to 
amuse himself, too. After a while.he will probably 
find other Dragon-fly Larvae, and they may go about 
together if they wish, but by that time each is so used 
to taking care of himself that he always does it. 

One little fellow, who was hatched near the boat¬ 
house, had never seen another Dragon-fly Larva until 
after he had changed his skin twice. Then he met one 
of nearly his own size sitting on a pond-lily root. 

“Do you wish company V 9 he asked. “I have been 
alone all my life and I want a playfellow .’ 9 



NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 


161 


“What shall we do?” said the Smaller Larva, who 
was already tired of sitting still. “I really can not 
eat another thing just now.” 

“Well, we might swim together for a while,” an¬ 
swered the Larger Larva. “That would do until we 
can eat again.” 

This was the way in which their friendship began, 
and the other pond people were soon used to seeing 
the pair darting back and forth through the water in 
their own jerky fashion. Each had six legs with which 
to swim, and if that had been all, they would have 
swam like other insects. But Dragon-fly Larvae have 
also a queer way of breathing which can be used to 
help them swim. They breathe in water at the back 
end of their bodies, and when they want to move sud¬ 
denly, they squirt this out and shoot themselves ahead 
instantly. 

Sometimes these two would float around in the 
water as though they were half asleep, and wait until 
some larger creature came slyly up to catch them. 
Then they would squirt water, and dart out of his 
reach. 

They did this once with Belostoma, the Giant 
Water-bug, who is always hungry for the smaller in¬ 
sects and fishes, and whose short front legs are ever 
bent and ready to seize any little fellow who comes 
too close. The Giant Water-bug was clinging to a 
water-lily, just under the water. The bud was a big 
one, and all ready to open, so it was large enough to 
hide him if he were careful. 

The Dragon-fly Larvas saw him there, but pre¬ 
tended that they did not. They were saucy young 
Larvae, and they agreed to swim slowly along past 
that bud as though they had not seen him at all. 

The Giant Water-bug saw them. “Ah,” said he to 
himself, “I see my breakfast is coming!” 

Then he changed around to the farther side of the 
bud and made ready. As they came along the Larger 


VOL. i—11 


162 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Larva was saying, “It is a fine sunshiny day. I like 
such days. When I begin flying I shall—” 

“No, you won’t!" cried the Giant Water-bug, as 
he rushed toward them. 

“Yes, we shall!" cried the Larvae, as they breathed 
out water, and darted away in different directions. 

The Giant Water-bug did not know which one to 
follow, so he stayed where he was, and ate a foolish 
young Minnow instead—a Minnow who had been so 
curious about what was happening that he had not 
tried to get away. 

Then what do you think those Dragon-fly Larvae 
did? They turned around and stuck out their lower 
lips at him, and that is like making a dreadful face at 
a person, a far worse face than you could make if you 
tried. Their lower lips were fastened on the end of a 
short, jointed, arm-like thing, and each lower lip was 
like a great pair of pincers. Usually they held their 
lower lips close to their faces, like masks. Now they 
stuck them out at the Giant Water-bug and it made 
him angry. When a Dragon-fly Larva sticks his lower 
lip out at a person, it is usually a sign that he intends 
to eat that person. 

“Ugh!” said the Giant Water-hug. “Ugh! Ugh! 
Ugh! Of all the bad manners I ever saw! Why, they 
ought to like me for not eating them, and here they 
are making faces at me instead! If I were not so full 
of Minnows, I would eat them right now.” 

He put it off and put it off, because there were 
always some foolish young pond people whom he 
could catch more easily. And you know how it is when 
things are put off in that way—they are apt not to get 
done at all. 

The days became hotter and hotter, and the pond 
water was so warm that the Dragon-fly Larvae grew 
fast, and had to change their skins very often. At 
last the wing hunches under their old skins were so 
large that they knew the next change would make 
them ready to fly. And still the Giant Water-bug had 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 163 


not eaten them, and they stuck out their lips at him 
every time they dared. That was where they did 
wrong. Of course pond people expect to eat each 
other more or less. If one eats another he enjoys it. 
If another eats him—why, it does not matter long. 
It is like a game, where sometimes people win and 
sometimes they lose. But when they win, as the 
Dragon-fly Larvae did, it is not a good plan to make 
faces at those who lose. 

Now the Giant Water-bug went away to town every 
night to fly around the street lights and crawl on the 
ground below them. This was fun for him, and the 
town people let him alone because they feared his ter¬ 
rible sting. Sometimes, but not always, he returned 
to the pond for the daylight hours. 

Now, too, the Dragon-fly Larvae began to watch for 
fine weather, and one hot, still morning, of the sort 
that Dragon-flies love, they said good-bye to their few 
friends and crawled up the stems of some nearby 
rushes. Each hooked twelve sharp claws into his own 
rush, and began trying to split his skin down the back. 

It took time, of course, but they kept at it until the 
skin on their backs cracked widely between their wing 
bunches. While they were doing this, they watched 
the Dragon-flies around them, and decided which they 
wanted for friends, and planned what fine times they 
would have chasing and eating the tiny winged insects 
above. And all this made them very happy. 

But Dragon-fly Larvae always find their last skin- 
change (or moulting) very difficult. After they get 
just about so far, they become tired and have to rest 
before they can drag out their long, ten-jointed abdo¬ 
mens. When these two friends got that far and were 
feeling very well pleased with themselves, the Smaller 
Dragon-fly Larva saw something that frightened him 
dreadfully. 

“Oh, look!” he cried. “The Giant Water-bug is 
here! ’’ 

On a branch that hung over the water, sat the Giant 


164 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Water-bug with his wings folded, and they had no way 
of telling whether he was awake or asleep. If he was 
awake, they knew very well what would happen to 
them. If he was asleep, and would stay asleep until 
they were ready to fly—well, then it would not happen. 

“Sh!” said the Larger Dragon-fly Larva. 4 ‘Crawl 
out as softly as you can.” 

They watched him. Oh, how they watched him! 
And they were too tired to crawl out any farther for 
a while, so there they hung, half in and half out of 
their old skins, and with the claws of the old skins 
firmly hooked into the rushes. It was like being caught 
in a trap, with a sleeping giant just above one. They 
could hardly breathe at all, and it was much more 
difficult because they were only beginning to breathe 
air instead of water, and were not used to it. 

When they were rested they threw their bodies 
over backward, and swayed this way and that with 
their legs tightly folded. The Larger Dragon-fly (he 
was no longer a Larva now, you know) was the first 
to leave his empty old skin hanging to the rush and to 
get his wings expanded and dry. He waited for his 
friend, but he watched the Giant Water-bug, and as 
soon as they were strong enough they crawled to the 
farther side of the rushes to hide. 

Now whether the Giant Water-bug had really been 
asleep, or whether he had been pretending, nobody 
knows. At all events he began to stretch and move 
around, after a while, and to clean oft his wings with 
his hindlegs. 

‘‘What shall we do?” whispered the two young 
Dragon-flies. “What shall we ever do? He certainly 
knows that we are here, for he is looking this way.” 

They dared not move until they had to, for fear 
their wings were not yet quite safe to use. At last the 
Giant Water-bug spoke. “Ah!” said he, “my food is 
not coming to me this time! That will make me a trifle 
more work. Neither is it going away.” 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 165 


He flew directly toward the rushes where they 
were, but he had waited too long. 

44 Now!” cried the Smaller Dragon-fly, springing 
into the air. 

44 Now!” echoed his friend, springing also. 

The Water-bug chased them, but what could a 
great, clumsy fellow like him do? They could fly side¬ 
ways and backward without troubling to turn around, 
so, whenever he flew at them, his bent feeding-legs met 
on air, not on Dragon-flies, and he suddenly found 
them above his head or below him, or darting off to 
one side. 

He soon gave up such a hopeless chase, and they 
alighted on rushes to talk it over. 4 4 The last part was 
fun,” the smaller one said. 44 But wasn’t it dreadful 
before our wings were dry?” 

“D — r — r — readful said the larger one. 4 4 You 
will never catch me starting trouble like this again.” 

44 I’ll never do it,” agreed the smaller one. 44 Never! 
It doesn’t pay.” 

Then they flew off to make new friends and enjoy 
the sunshine, for on cloudy days they would have to 
sit still and rest. 


The Clever Young Mouse. 

rW^N the tool-house which stood in the back garden 
were a great many things besides tools. There was 
plenty of room to store things, and it was really 
funny to see how much the man found to keep in it. 
There was a barrel of plaster to be used on the lawn; 
there were frames covered with netting to set over 
the hills of young cucumbers, to keep the bugs from 
eating them; there were bunches of soft twine for 
tying vines; and there was a great pile of burlap in 
one corner. If you can think how these things looked 
in the dim light that shone through one small window, 
you will see what a delightful place it was for Mice. 





166 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

The Mice had found it. They have a way of find¬ 
ing out such places. One Mother Mouse had built a 
nest in the pile of burlap, and lined it with pieces of 
bright cloth. These she had gnawed from the cloth¬ 
ing of the Little Girl’s doll that had been forgotten 
and left in the tool-house over night. 

Now there were four tiny Mice living in what had 
once been parts of the doll’s best party dress, her 
cloak, and her warm hood. They were about as large 
as Bumble-bees, and their fur was still so short that 
their pink skin showed through. They did not look at 
all like their father and mother, because they were so 
young, but they did not know that, because their eyes 
were still shut. Their noses were still blunt and 
stubby, while their parents had fine sharp ones with 
long whiskers standing out on either side. 

They would have pointed noses and sharp teeth 
by the time they were old enough to have to hunt for 
their food, and even gnaw through walls to reach it. 
By that time, also, they would have whiskers, and they 
would need them, too. Animals, you know, find whisk¬ 
ers very useful, especially animals that like to hunt 
after dark, for the nerves in the whisker-tips give 
warning to the animal when a place is too small for 
him to pass safely through. 

Now all they cared for was to drink warm milk 
from their mother’s body, and to sleep. When they 
slept they all lay in ,exactly the same position, with 
their wee tails curled down between their tiny hind¬ 
legs, and held close to their little pink bellies. Their 
forefeet they put up to their faces, and their ears were 
held close to their heads. And there was a reason for 
this. When they lay so, like snug little bundles without 
any corners or edges sticking out, they were in the 
position which they had taken when they were very 
tiny. In this same position they had grown larger 
every day. It is the best position for weak little ani¬ 
mals that have to be kept huddled closely together, and 
they keep such habits quite a while. 

■* 


\ 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 167 


“You are certainly a fine looking lot,” said tlieir 
mother, when they were old enough to have their eyes 
open. “I only hope that you will be as wise as you 
are handsome. I should feel dreadfully to have any 
of you lose a tail, or get a foot crushed.” 

“Why, how could we?” asked the Biggest Little 
Mouse. “Don’t our tails grow on? You can’t lose 
anything that grows on, can you?” 

Mother Mouse looked troubled for a minute before 
she spoke. “I see that the time has come for telling 
you,” she replied, “because you will soon have to go 
out into the great world, and care for yourselves. I 
always tell my children the truth about things before 
they leave me.” 

“Why do we have to leave you?” asked the Small¬ 
est Little Mouse. “I like it here. Only I wish the rest 
of the children would stop crowding me so.” 

“She crowds us,” interrupted one of her brothers 
angrily. “She takes up twice as much room as she 
used to. She’d better not talkl She leaves her tail 
and her legs sticking out when I want to go to sleep, 
and they bother me. Make her behave herself.” 

Mother Mouse looked very severe, yet her whiskers 
twitched as though she wanted to laugh. If this had 
been her first litter of children, she would probably 
have scolded them all for their crossness, but since she 
had already brought up thirty or forty she knew about 
what to expect and the best way to treat them. 

“Of course she crowds you, and of course you 
crowd her, and of course all of you crowd each other. 
Why should you not? You are growing up. And your 
legs and tails get in each other’s way because they are 
becoming stronger and more ready for use. You have 
to move them about to keep them comfortable, and 
make them stronger still. You are nearly ready to go 
out into the great world. I know that because your 
teeth are so long that they begin to hurt me when you 
take your milk. That is a sign that you must soon 
leave the nest.” 


168 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


4 ‘We may come back to sleep during the daytime, 
may we not?” asked the Smallest Little Mouse. 

“No,” said Mother Mouse. “When you finish 
your night’s hunting for food, and want to sleep, you 
must find places for yourselves. This place is only for 
little Mice, not for such big ones as you will be then. 
Now I will tell you about life in the great world. Your 
noses will help you find food. When you find it, your 
eyes must tell you whether it is safe for you to take it. 
Sometimes it is placed in things called traps. ’ ’ 

“Are they good to eat?” asked one of the children. 

“No,” answered Mother Mouse. “They are things 
that Men put around to catch us. If a Mouse tries to 
get food that is inside a trap, it springs shut and grips 
him like the jaws of an animal, or else it shuts the 
tiny door through which he entered, and he is a pris¬ 
oner. If it grips him by the neck, it kills him. If it 
catches his leg or his tail, it may cut them off. And if 
it makes him a prisoner he wears his nose all raw and 
bloody by trying to push out. I did that once, and the 
Little Girl found me and set me free.” 

The Mouse children gazed at her with frightened 
faces. “Traps must be the worst things there are,” 
they said. 

“Indeed they are not,” said she. “Traps can not 
see you or hear you or smell you, or run after you. If 
you will leave traps alone they will never hurt you. 
The great dangers are those which are alive. The 
Mice who live in woods and fields have to look out for 
Hawks, Owls, Weasels, Cats, and Men. Mice must al¬ 
ways look out for danger.” 

The children asked her to tell more about these 
creatures, and she did. She ended by saying, “All 
that you need fear around here are Men and Cats. 
Men are rather stupid, and unless they see you run¬ 
ning around they can not find you, but, oh, my children, 
beware of Cats! They are quick and quiet, and so 
patient that one will wait a whole night beside a Mouse 


NATURE AND ANIMAL STORIES. 169 


hole, waiting for the Mouse. They are big, and can 
not follow you into small places. Tomorrow night we 
will go out in the moonlight, and I will show you the 
great world.” 

The next evening they started out. First they had 
a lunch of some delicious seeds that were in the tool- 
house, and that gave the children a chance to use their 
teeth. 

“You must begin gnawing soon,” Mother Mouse 
said. “Your teeth will grow all the time, and unless 
you gnaw enough to keep them worn down, you will 
soon be unable to shut your mouths. Soft food is very 
bad for children after their teeth are grown.” 

She taught them how to run up and down walls, 
and how to move things along by curling their hairless 
tails around them, and dragging them. “We have 
tails,” she said, “and we may as well use them. I am 
sure I should not know how to manage without mine.” 

She also told them how to drink milk out of pans 
into which they could not safely drop. “You sit on 
the edge of the pan and lower your tail into the milk, ’ ’ 
she said. “Then you raise your tail to your mouth 
and swallow the milk that sticks to it.” 

Her children thought her very clever indeed, as 
she was, and they always remembered what she told 
them the first night that they went out alone into the 
great world. It was this: “Find out all the useful 
things you can do, and learn to do them as well as 
possible. Then find out what other people can not do. 
Some time you will be glad to know that. ’ ’ 

Although they now slept in different places all day, 
they met each other and their parents very often, and 
they soon became used to seeing the Cat stealing softly 
through the night. They watched her from safe places 
and learned her ways. 

One night the Biggest Little Mouse saw his mother 
and sisters together by the tool-house door. He was 
over by the Chicken-coop, where he had been stealing 


170 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


the mush left by the Chickens. He started for the tool- 
house, when—there was a rush and a spring of the 
Cat, and the Biggest Little Mouse felt the tip of his 
tail barely slip out from under a large paw! 

The tool-house was far away, and what do you sup¬ 
pose he did? He ran straight up a young apple tree, 
with the Cat close behind him. 

“She will get him! She will get him!” cried his 
sisters. His mother was so frightened that she could 
not speak. 

He ran up the trunk and out on a branch with the 
Cat still following. Just as they expected her to catch 
him, he sprang across to another branch and ran again 
to the ground, head downward. The Cat sprang also, 
caught at the bark with her sharp claws, and chased 
him back to the trunk of the tree. 

“She will get him! She will get him!” cried his 
sisters again. 

But his mother said, “She will not get him. She 
can not come down head foremost.’’ 

And, sure enough, they saw her back carefully 
down until fairly near the ground, looking over her 
shoulder all the time. Then she gave a backward leap, 
turned in the air, and was off after the Mouse again. 

All she saw of him was the tip of his tail, as he fol¬ 
lowed his mother and sisters into the tool-house. Once 
there he took a long breath and dusted off his fur, for 
Mice are very tidy. ‘ ‘ Good luck! ’ 9 he said, cheerfully. 
“That is what comes of being able to turn your hind 
feet backward, and of knowing that the Cat cannot!” 


SECTION III. 

Plays and Games. 



Baby Plays. 


{3ME, let us play with our babies! 

Let us hold them in our arms, cuddle them, 
fondle them, kiss them, toss them, laugh with 
them, smile for them, and await the answering coo; 
let us play with wee fingers and toes. 

Let us play Hide and Seek, Peek-a-boo, Creepy 
Mouse, tugging at the nose, then making believe 
show it. 

Mothers and fathers have always had a priceless 
heritage of these traditional plays. 

Instinctive Traditional Play. 

We are instructing the child, though it may be un¬ 
consciously, when we draw the baby’s attention to the 
parts of his body as in the following plays: 

Knock at the door! 

Peep in! 

Lift up the latch! 

Walk in! 

Brow bender. 

Eye peeper, 

Nose smeller. 

Mouth eater, 

Chin chopper! 

Here sits the Lord Mayor, 

Here sit his two men. 

Here sits the cock, 

And here sits the hen; 

Here sit the chickens, 

And here they go in, 

Chippety, chippety, chippety, chin! 

171 



172 


THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


All the way to London Town! 

One foot up, the other foot down! 

This little pig went to market. 

This little pig stayed at home. 

This little pig had roast beef. 

This little pig had none, 

This little pig cried, “Wee, wee! 

I can’t find my way home.” 

We are showing onr love and care for the baby and 
interpreting his love for father and mother when we 
play— 

Bye, baby bunting, 

Daddy’s gone a-hunting, 

To get a little rabbit-skin, 

To wrap his baby bunting in. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green; 

Father’s a nobleman, mother’s a Queen; 

Betty’s a lady, and wears a gold ring; 

And Johnny’s a drummer and drums for the King. 

We are drawing our baby’s attention to the world 
of trade when we introduce— 

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker’s man. 

So I do master, as fast as I can: 

Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T, 

And toss it in the oven for Tommy and me! 

We are suggesting the spiritual in the following 
play: 

Here is the church. 

Here is the steeple. 

Open the doors. 

And see all of the people. 

We suggest journeying into a larger world to the 
baby, through the rides in our arms, on the foot, or the 
knee, or it may be sitting in the nursery rocker— 

Eide a cockhorse to Banbury Cross, 

To see a fine lady upon a white horse; 

Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes. 

She shall have music wherever she goes. 




The King- and Queen of Belgium with their children. 

The new Prince of Wales, heir-apparent to the English throne, with his brothers and sister. 






















BABY PLAYS. 


173 


To market, to market. 

To buy a plum bun; 

Home again, home again. 

My journey is done. 

Here we go up, up, up! 

Here we go down, down, down I 
Here we go backwards and forwards 
And here we go round and round! 

This is the way the ladies ride, 

Yin! Nin! Nin! 

This is the way the gentlemen ride, 

Trot! Trot! Trot! 

This is the way the farmers ride, 

Jogglety! Jogglety! Jogglety! Jog! 

Because the father is stronger than the mother, he 
may best take the baby on most of these journeys. 
His may be the pleasure of having the real romp of 
the day. He may toss the baby to the ceiling, let him 
jump into his arms, or take hold of the tiny hands and 
let him jump to the floor; also by taking hold of the 
baby’s hand he may be helped to walk up father’s leg 
and body to the shoulder where it is great fun to sit 
for a ride, or, perhaps, he may climb around to ride 
pick-a-pack. 

Froebel’s Mother Plays. 

There came a day in the history of education when 
a certain man observed mothers playing such tradi¬ 
tional plays as have been mentioned. As he saw the 
eager, happy joy, and the energy displayed, he thought 
what a wonderful thing it would be if the child could 
be educated through the medium of play. 

From such plays as we have reviewed, Frederick 
Froebel drew the material of his Mutter und Rose 
Lieder, or Mother Play Book. 

One must speak of Froebel often in the study of 
the child, as he was the founder of the Kindergarten. 

He was the first educator to discover the educa¬ 
tional value of the simple, instinctive mother plays. 


174 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


He observed the plays of the German mothers in 
his country, and then adapted, borrowed, interpreted, 
invented and worked out a system or sequence of re¬ 
lated plays used as a basis in all kindergarten training, 
and designed by him for use in the home. 

The Mother Play Book is one of the greatest books 
in the whole history of the practise of education. In it 
Froebel pictures home as it ought to be, and accom¬ 
panies the mother in her daily round through the 
house, garden, field, workshop, market and church. 

The mother is one of the middle class and she 
watches, clothes, feeds and trains her child in good 
habits and gives thanks to God at the end of each day. . 
Nothing is too trifling for her to notice. 

Love makes her inventive and she discovers the 
means for play; talks in poetry and prose, and sings 
little songs. 

Froebel’s own loss of a mother’s love when he was 
a little boy made him appreciate the importance of a 
mother’s love in infancy. 

Some one has said, that “as moral progress led 
to a culmination in the life and teachings of Jesus 
Christ, and science struggled onward and found 
Charles Darwin, so Froebel had through education, 
mothered by play, opened the eyes of the world to the 
meaning of childhood, and given a new conception of 
education.” 

^ The thoughtful mother will learn to love this Bible 
of the Kindergarten and will use it as her guide. She 
will grasp the underlying truth in the crude pictures 
and become acquainted with Froebel’s manner of ex¬ 
pression, knowing that he professed only to be a path- 
breaker and to have pointed the way. 

The Mother Play will guide her in the use of all 
of the influences, agencies, and impressions with which 
the child comes in contact; help to place the child in 
touch with nature; teach him to love his neighbors, 
and respect those upon whom he depends. 


BABY PLAYS. 


175 


It is when the child’s attention is attracted to some¬ 
thing that he sees and experiences or that he has been 
led to notice that the mother may introduce her differ¬ 
ent plays and add little stories, verses or songs. The 
child is always instinctively imitating what the mother 
does in the home; he makes believe sweep, dust, stir 
up a cake, knead bread, and sew; when he goes out 
into the yard with his mother, and hears her call the 
chickens, he calls to them also; he delights in making 
his hand go like the weather vane, and when he goes 
into the field he imitates the farmer mowing hay or 
sowing, cutting, threshing, and reaping his grain; he 
imitates the carpenter and blacksmith at their trades; 
he visits the shops and market, and afterwards plays 
at buying and selling; and when he goes to church 
with his mother he folds his hands as she does, in quiet, 
loving reverence and respect for tbe Creator of all 
things. “What the child imitates,” says Froebel, “he 
begins to understand. Let him represent the flying of 
birds, and he enters partially into the life of birds. 
Let him imitate the motion of fishes in the water and 
his sympathy with fishes is quickened. ’ ’ 

Imitation is the keyword to the mother’s play with 
her child. 

Since Froebel’s time there have been notable and 
artistic additions to the list of plays for the hand. 

With the wealth of finger plays at command, the 
mother need not lack for a selection. She may be 
obliged to sigh for time in which to master her collec¬ 
tion of plays, but the habit of committing to memory 
verses and melodies, when busy about the house, is one 
well formed. At the end of the day when the babies 
are tucked in their bed for the night there comes a 
quiet time for study and reflection. 

When it comes to using the finger plays from the 
different publications, many mothers hesitate, through 
self-consciousness, to use the gestures. Perhaps they 
will be surprised, and a little more at ease, when 


176 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


they stop to notice how naturally and unconsciously 
they employ gestures every day; it may be beckoning or 
pointing with a finger; making what is said emphatic 
by a movement of the hand; shaking the head in the 
negative or affirmative; waving good-bye; throwing a 
kiss, or opening the arms in invitation. 

Just as the unconscious gesture in every day life 
is employed, so is the gesture meant to be used in the 
finger plays. 

The normal child is all movement himself, and 
whatever expresses movement interests him. Before 
he can speak he understands our gestures and employs 
the same. 

Fingek Motions. 

Come, let us play with the fingers. 

(Adapted to the tune of “The Mulberry Bush .”) 

This is the way the fingers stand, the fingers stand, the fingers 

stand, 

This is the way the fingers stand, so early in the morning. 

This is the way the fingers bow, etc., 

(Hold the hands facing one another and let fingers bow.) 

The fingers say, “How do you do!” etc 
(Fold the hands together and shake.) 

This is the way they like to dance, etc., 

(Let fingers dance about in the air.) 

This is the way they like to snap, etc.. 

This is the way they like to stretch, etc., 

(Open and shut hands.) 

This is the way they like to rest, etc., 

(Fold the hands.) 

Let us name the fingers. 

The Family. 

This is the mother dear, 

This is the father near. 

This is the brother tall, 

Sister next and baby small. 

One, two, three, four, five we see; 

Such a happy family! 


BABY PLAYS. 


177 


Let the fingers say “good morning’’ to each other. 

The Greeting. 

Now see them all 

(Let fingers stand facing each other.) 

Both short and tall, 

These merry little men! 

With bows they meet 
(Let fingers bow toward each other.) 

Across the street. 

Then say the fingers ten 
(Fold hands and shake.) 

“Good morning to you!” 

And “How do you do!” 

If they wish to greet other hands, add: 

Just see them now 
As they all bow 

(Same as before.) 

And say to each “Good day!” 

Along the street 
More friends they meet, 

Who want so much to say, 

“Good morning to you!” 

And “How do you do!” 

Let us put the fingers to bed. 

Bed Time. 

The fingers are so sleepy! 

(Hold left hand up.) 

It is time to go to bed. 

(Lay hand out on lap.) 

Come, little Baby Finger, 

You must first tuck in your head. 

(With pointer finger of right hand turn little finger down on 

the extended palm.) 

Ring Finger creeps in slowly, 

And who’s next but Tallman, straight! 

Come, Pointer Finger, hurry, 

For ’tis getting very late! 

Now snuggle close, you little men, 

There’s just one more to come! 

The bed is plenty wide enough 
For little master Thumb. 


VOL. 1—12 


178 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Let us rock the fingers in our arms and repeat this 
lullaby: 

Hushaby! Rockaby! 

Babies are sleeping. 

Hushaby! Rockaby I 
Sandman is creeping. 

Hushaby! Rockaby I 
Tucked in bed tight. 

Hushaby! Rockaby! 

Good night! Good night! 

If some rhythmical lullaby may be played on the 
piano while the fingers are rocked, it will add much to 
the play. 

Now suppose we play about some raindrops. 

The Raindrops. 

When the flowers are thirsty, 

(Hold hands together with fingers spread to resemble petals of 

a flower.) 

And the grass is dry, 

Merry little raindrops 
(Let fingers flutter in the air.) 

Tumble from the sky. 

(Let fingers flutter downward to lap.) 

All around they patter 
(In lap.) 

In their merry play, 

’Till some little sunbeams 

(Describe a circle for sun with arms over head, fingers touching.) 

Chase them all away. 

(Let fingers dance down to lap and go behind the back.) 

Let the fingers play they are Snowflakes. 

Snowplakes. 

Merry little snowflakes falling through the air, 

Resting on the steeples and tall trees everywhere. 
Clothing roofs and fences, capping every post, 

Covering the hillside where we like to coast. 


BABY PLAYS. 


179 


Merry little snowflakes try their very best 
To make a soft white cover, so buds and flowers can rest. 
When the bright spring sunshine says he’s come to stay. 
Then those selfsame snowflakes quickly run away. 

To make the motions of this finger play let the 
fingers dance above the head for the snowflakes; 
point the fingers of both hands together for the 
steeple; spread them apart for the roof; make an 
enclosure in the lap for the fence; raise thumbs for 
posts; let right arm represent hillside and the left 
hand the sled which may be made to slide down the 
incline and across the lap. Let the fingers flutter down 
for snowflakes; hold hands together with fingers 
folded in for bud; spread fingers out to represent 
open flower; describe the sun by making a circle with 
arms and hands held over head and then let the fingers 
flutter down to lap and disappear behind the back. 

Let us visit the barnyard animals. 

The Barnyard. 

When the farmer’s day is done, 

In the barnyard every one, 

Beast and bird politely say, 

"Thank you for my food to-day.” 

The cow says, "Moo!” 

The pigeon says, "Coo!” 

The sheep says, "Baa!” 

The lamb says, "Maa!” 

The hen "Cluck, Cluck!” 

"Quack!” says the duck; 

The dog, "Bow wow!” 

The cat, "Meow!” 

The horse says, "Neigh! 

I love sweet hay.” 

The pig nearby 
Grunts in his sty: 

When the barn is locked up tight, 

Then the Farmer says, "Good night!” 

Thanks his animals eveiy one 
For the work that has been done. 


180 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Pigeons. 

Ten snowy white pigeons are standing in line 
(Hold fingers up.) 

On the roof of the barn in the warm sunshine. 

(Make a tent with hands.) 

Ten snowy white pigeons fly down to the ground 
(Let fingers flutter to the lap and walk about slowly.) 

To eat of the grain that is thrown all around. 

(Make motion of scattering grain.) 

Ten snowy white pigeons soon flutter aloof, 

{Let fingers fly upwards.) 

And sit in a line on the ridge of the roof. 

{Same as before.) 

Ten pigeons are saying politely, “Thank you !” 

{Hold ear near roof.) 

If you listen, you hear their gentle “coo-roo!” 

Nora A. Smith has said, “Perhaps it is best to 
keep * * * (the fairy story) as a sort of sweet¬ 

meat to he taken on high days and holidays.” So we 
will play it is a “high day.” 

The Five Fairies. 

{Naming the fingers.) 

Said this little fairy, “I’m as thirsty as can be.” 

Said this little fairy, “Pm hungry, too, dear me!” 

Said this little fairy, “Who’ll tell us where to go?” 

Said this little fairy, “I’m sure that I don’t know.” 

Said this little fairy, “Let’s brew some dewdrop tea.” 

So they sipped it and ate honey beneath the maple tree. 

The Brownies. 

{Naming the fingers.) 

Hist! Hist! Be still! The little Brownie Band, 

Skip it! Trip! Down in the meadowland. 

There’s Early-rose, Stubby-nose, 

Trailing-o’er, Apple-core, 

Knock-about, Toes-turn-out, 

Twist-and-turn, Never-learn, 

Double-chin, Dimple-din. 

Hist! Hist! Be still! The little Brownies creep 
Back again, home again, while we’re all asleep! 

{Fingers creep behind the back.) 


BABY PLAYS. 


181 


The Pour 0’clocks. 

Ten little fairies played, one day, 

(Hold fingers up. Let fingers dance until the flower is made.) 

And flew so far they lost their way! 

Heigho! 

Lo, bye and bye, each sleepy head 

Crept in a Four o’clock to bed. 

{Make open flower.) 

Bye low! 

(Close flower by folding fingers in.) 

But when they awoke each fay was shocked. 

To find the Four o’clock was locked! 

I know! 

Next day the flower opened wide, 

(Open flower.) 

And every fairy flew outside! 

Heigho! 

PROSE FINGER PLAYS. 

There are prose finger plays or little stories in 
which gestures may or may not be employed as in the 
finger play rhymes. 

These are suited to the youngest child and en¬ 
joyed fully as much by the older ones. 

We are told by one gifted in the art of story-telling 
that, “The story should always be accompanied with 
gestures; simple, free, unstudied motions, descrip¬ 
tive, perhaps, of the mother-bird’s wings as she soars 
away from the nest * # V’ 

Descriptive sounds should be used by the story¬ 
teller, such as the “choo-choo” of the engine, the 
“ding-dong” of the bell, the trill of the frog, the whis¬ 
per and whistle of the wind, and the sound made by 
animal and fowl. 

One mother who could not find time to commit 
the finger play rhymes told them in prose. Another 
mother who had neither extra time nor extra money 
made up her own finger plays. This is one: 

"Five little birds live in a tree. The father bird, mother 
bird, and one, two, three baby birds. Here is the nest where 


182 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


they live. Hark! We can hear the little birds! Peep! peep! 
peep! See! they fly out of the nest and away—up—up in the 
air, now down to the ground. See them hop about. Let us 
throw some crumbs to them. Peep! peep! peep! They are 
saying, “Thank you.” See them fly away and up to the nest in 
the tree. Hark! do we hear the birds now? No, because they 
are all sound asleep for the night, and the wind rocks them, 
so—so.” 

It is easily seen where the gestures are used. 

THE WINDS.* 

One day the wind came from the North. 

Sometimes he sang. 

Sometimes he whistled. (Imitate.) 

He blew through the treetops ( Hold arms up straight) and 
sent the leaves down to the ground. (Let fingers dance down to 
the lap.) He shook the flowers and scattered their seeds over 
the earth. He watched Jack Frost cover the streams and ponds 
with a thin white spread. He blew the snow clouds about the 
sky and down came the snowflakes and covered everything. It 
was winter time. 

One day the wind came from the East. Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh! 
(Blow breath out through the teeth softly, then gradually louder 
and then softly again.) The rain clouds were blown here and 
there. (Let hands float in the air.) 

The raindrops tumbled down, (Let fingers dance down to 
the lap) and melted the ice and snow, and together they ran 
away (Let fingers go behind the bach) into the ground. They 
tapped on the seeds who stretched their roots down (Hands 
closed and fingers stretch down one by one) and stretched up 
to blossom. The ferns uncurled. (Hands closed, and fingers 
stretch up one by one.) The stream woke up and ran on and on 
its way, washing the banks of the meadow (Arms and hand 
decribe boundary of meadow in the lap) until everything was 
clean and bright. It was spring time. 

One day the wind blew from the South. (Blow breath out 
in a whisper.) It was a gentle wind and it rustled the leaves 
ever so little on the trees (Let fingers move slightly as the arms 

♦These stories are taken from Descriptive Stories for all the Year , a collec¬ 
tion of prose finger stories, published by Milton Bradley Co. 



BABY PLAYS. 


183 


stand upright) ; it rocked the baby birds in their nests (Describe 
nest with hands); it made the flowers nid nod to each other 
(Hold hands together with palms facing and fingers bent.); 
while the bees went into them for honey and then flew out 
(Let fingers dance away behind baclc) and away, singing 
Buzz-z-z! Everyone was busy and everything was growing. It 
was summer time. 

One day the wind blew from the west and so softly that one 
could not see what it did—it could only be felt on the face or 
hands. 

The trees were loaded with fruit, the corn waved with the 
full ear on the stalk, the vines were loaded with grapes, and 
the ground was rich with grains and vegetables. 

Everything was ready to be gathered in. It was Fall. 

It was time for the North Wind to come back again, which 
he did very soon with his Oo-oo-Oo-oo-oo! 

About Something that Happened. 

The air was cold and it kept growing colder. 

Little children had to run to keep their feet warm. Some 
blew on their fingers, some shook their hands, and some covered 
their ears—so! 

The drivers of teams swung their arms across their breasts. 
Grown people sometimes stopped to shade their eyes and look 
up at the weather-cock ( Hold the right forearm perpendicular 
and let hand turn to represent the weather vane) on the church 
steeple, then they would nod their heads in a wise way as much 
as to say, “Something is going to happen !” 

And something did happen. 

Little gray clouds (Hold arms above head and let hands 
stretch at right angles and float along) hurried through the air 
and all at once some little white fluffy things tumbled down 
(Let fingers dance about) here, there, and everywhere. They 
put a cap on the weathercock (Describe again) ; they covered the 
church steeple (Describe a tent, with both hands over the head), 
the trees (Hold both forearms upright, with hands held erect 
and fingers spread out), the housetops (Describe a tent and 
lower down than the steeple, with hands held farther apart as 
the finger tips touch), the fences (Place hands around lap, to 
describe an enclosure), and posts (Erect the thumbs ), and made 
them all look queer and out of shape. 


184 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


They kissed people on the face, they danced merrily on their 
hats and coats, and covered the ground (Let fingers dance to and 
fro over the lap) everywhere. People put up their umbrellas, 
drivers got out their sleighs, children took out their sleds, and 
everyone was glad that something had happened. 

What was it ? Can you guess ? 

The Night Before Christmas. 

’Twas the night before Christmas. The moon was shining 
high in the sky and the stars were twinkling ( Hands upright 
with slight movements of the fingers ), when Santa Claus’ rein¬ 
deer ( Both hands descend with the same slight movement of 
fingers ) came through the air. Over the tree-tops ( Hands held 
erect for trees) and right down onto the roof (Fingers meet in 
tent fashion) of Betty’s and Bobby’s house. 

Clumpity-clump ! Clumpity-clump! Clumpity-clump! (A 
good imitation of the clatter of hoofs can he made by slapping 
first one palm, and then the other on the knees) went forty 
little hoofs! But they did not wake Betty and Bobby—oh, no! 

Santa Claus threw his reins over the dashboard, and lifting 
his pack to his back, down the chimney he went, as quick as 
that! (Snap the fingers.) He found two stockings hanging side 
by side. (Hands hanging like two stockings.) 

When Santa Claus saw these his eyes began to twinkle and 
the dimple in his cheek came and went. He stroked his white 
beard as he looked at Betty and Bobby asleep in their beds, then 
putting his fingers to his lips, he went to work. 

He filled the stockings—very full—from the toes to the tops 
and hanging over. When he was ready to go he nodded to 
Betty and Bobby as much as to say, “I know you will be sur¬ 
prised in the morning.” He threw each a kiss and with a 
“Merry Christmas” to all, up the chimney he flew. 

“Cl’k! cl’k!” said Santa Claus, as he drew up the reins. 

Clumpity-clump! Clumpity-clump! Clumpity-clump! went 
the hoofs over the roof. Then up into the sky (Hands ascend, 
fingers dancing) went Dancer and Prancer, and Vixen and 
Blitzen, and all of the rest of the reindeer, up above the trees 
(Hands raised for trees) out of sight, straight to the next 
chimney. 





BABY PLAYS. 


185 


Christmas Morning. 

It was Christmas morning and the clock struck—ding! 
dong! ding! dong! ding! dong! 

Bobby rubbed his eyes and sat up straight in his little bed, 
and Betty rubbed her eyes and sat up straight in her bed, too. 

"Merry Christmas,” said Bobby. 

"Merry Christmas,” said Betty. 

Everybody in the house heard it and said "Merry Christmas” 
to Bobby and Betty. 

Then Bobby and Betty jumped out of bed and ran to the 
fireplace for their stockings. 

"Just look!” said Bobby. 

"0 my!” said Betty. 

Then they climbed upon some chairs and took the stockings 
down. 

Bobby took out a top. ( Use motion of winding top and 
throwing it to spin. The top sings, Z-Z-Z-z-z-z!) 

Betty took out an umbrella that opened and shut. (Make 
the top of umbrella with one hand and handle with fore finger of 
the other.) 

Bobby took out a Jack-in-the-box, that jumped out as quickly 
as that! (Fold thumb in fist, then let it pop out.) 

Betty took out a tiny book, and opened it right away. 

Bobby took a horn ( Two fists raised to lips, one behind the 
other) and blew it loud and long—Toot! toot! toot! toot! 
toot! toot! 

Betty took out an orange ( Described by making a ball with 
two hands). 

So did Bobby. 

Then Bobby found a little flag ( Wave hand in air) and some 
tin soldiers. (Hands upright, palms outward.) 

Bobby took out an apple. (Extend one fist.) 

So did Betty. 

Betty found a little doll in a box (Extend left hand with 
thumb laid in palm) in the heel of her stocking, and two lolli¬ 
pops (Hands upraised, and circle made by thumb and fore¬ 
finger) down in the toe. 

It was such fun to place everything out in a row. Then 
Bobby looked at Betty’s presents and Betty looked at Bobby’s. 

They played with their own presents and then with each 


i 


186 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


other’s, until the clock struck—ding! dong! ding! dong! ding! 
dong! ding! 

“Come, children,” said mother, “it is nearly time for break¬ 
fast, so be quick and dress, and hurry down to tell us what 
Santa Claus put in your stockings.” 

And they did. 

How the Gingerbread Boy Ran Away. 

Once there was a little boy by the name of John. He was 
standing by the kitchen table watching his mother make 
molasses cookies. 

She took the last of the dough and rolled it out very thin 
(Make motion ) and then, just as John was hoping, she took 
a knife and marked out (Mark out with finger on palm of other 
hand) a head with eyes and nose and mouth, a body, with six 
jacket buttons down the front, two legs and two arms, and be¬ 
hold ! there was a gingerbread boy ! 

He was laid in a pan and pushed into the oven and the 
oven door was shut tight. When the door was opened out came 
a round little, brown little, gingerbread boy. 

He rested for a minute on the window-sill, where it was cool, 
and then John put him in his pocket and ran down through the 
orchard. 

As John ran away he passed Old Dog Tray. 

“Sniff! Sniff!” (Draw breath through the nose as if smell¬ 
ing) went the dog. “I smell something good. I guess I’ll run 
away, too!” 

As John and Old Dog Tray went along they passed the Pig. 

“Sniff! Sniff!” went the Pig. “I smell something good. 
I guess I’ll run away too!” 

As John and Old Dog Tray and the Pig went along they 
passed the Little Red Hen. 

“Sniff! Sniff!” went the hen. “I smell something good! I 
guess I’ll run away too!” 

As John and Old Dog Tray and the Pig and the Little Red 
Hen went along they met the Rabbit. 

“Sniff! Sniff!” went the Rabbit. “I smell something good. 
I guess I’ll run away too!” 

When John reached the gray stone he sat down, and so did 
Old Dog Tray and the Pig and the Little Red Hen and the 


BABY PLAYS. 


187 


Babbit, but the Gingerbread Boy didn’t; instead he came out 
of the pocket and began to run away and this is where he went. 

Old Dog Tray ate his sugary head, with the sugary eyes and 
the sugary mouth and the sugary nose; the Pig ate the fat 
brown legs, with the sugary toes; the Little Red Hen ate each 
sugary arm, the Babbit ate the vest buttons six, and John 
had the rest of him—and that was all. 

Descriptive sounds are used mostly in the follow¬ 
ing story, although what Peter sees on his journey 
may be effectively pictured with the hands. 

The Journey. 

r 

One morning Peter stood at the window and looked down 
the long city street. 

Every once in a while he heard a whistle that was very 
familiar. It was the faithful postman who came along twice 
every day. Peter was looking for a letter and he was just 
wondering if the postman had it in his bag when the bell went, 
Tr-r-r-r! Peter ran to the door and reached the mail-box be¬ 
fore the postman had time to drop anything in it. 

There was one letter and Peter carried it quickly to his 
mother. She was very busy mending Peter’s trousers, but she 
put her sewing down and opened the envelope. 

The letter was from Grandpa Lothrop, who lived in the 
country. 

This is the part that Peter’s mother read to him: 

“* * * We are so glad that Peter is going to spend his 

vacation with us. As it is hard for you to leave home, why not 
let him come to Becket alone ? 

“I will be at the station today to meet him on the four 
o’clock train. 

“Grandpa. 

“P. S. Be sure to pack Peter’s overalls and jumper.” 

Peter was very much excited when he found he was really 
going to Becket alone. 

He got out his little suitcase—it was about so big—and in 
went the Sunday suit, the everyday suit, the story book he liked 
best, a top, a bag of marbles, and last of all the overalls and 
jumper. 


188 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Tr-r-r! went the bell, and this time the hackman stood at 
the door to help Peter and his mother into the hack. 

When they reached the station they had to hurry to the 
ticket office. 

“I want a ticket to Becket, please,” said Peter, as he took 
out his own pocketbook and paid for his own ticket. 

Peter and his mother then went out on the platform. 

Wlioo! Whoo! was heard in the distance. 

“I guess that is my train,” said Peter, and that very moment 
the engine came around the curve. 

Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! Sh-s-s-s-s! Then the train 
stopped. 

Peter’s mother kissed him good-bye, and then asked the con¬ 
ductor to see that her little boy got off at Becket. 

Peter took the little seat back of the door and put his feet 
on the suit case. There was a jerk and the engine went, Choo! 
Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! 

Peter waved his hand to his mother as long as he could see 
her, and then he looked out of the window. 

At first he saw city streets, electric cars, the park, and then 
he saw a green meadow that was fenced in, a river winding 
through it with a bridge across it, and near by a windmill that 
went round and round. 

Then the engine went, Sh-s-s-s-s! 

“Sunnyview!” called the conductor. 

Peter watched people get off the train and others get on. 

“All aboard!” said the conductor. 

Then on went the train—Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! 
Choo! Peter looked out of the window again. 

This time he saw orchard trees and bee-hives, a farmer plow¬ 
ing, a flock of crows in the sky, and up where they flew about 
he saw the little white clouds, floating lazily along. 

Then the engine went, Sh-s-s-s-s-s-s! 

“Clear Lake!” called the conductor. 

Then, a minute later, “All aboard!” 

Peter saw pastures where little lambs were frisking about, 
and in the distance a church steeple with a weathercock. 

He saw a farmer driving his wagon along a dusty country 
road. 

“Why, that looks like Grandpa!” thought Peter, shading his 
eyes with his hand. 


BABY PLAYS. 


189 


And it was, for just then the conductor looked behind the 
door and called, “Becket! Do not leave any articles in the car l” 

Then Peter picked up his suitcase and in a moment was 
out on the platform beside Grandpa Lothrop. 

Choo! Choo ! Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! 

The train went out of sight and Peter’s journey was over. 

The province of the story is necessarily limited for 
the child of two or three years, which is primarily 
the age of finger plays and very short stories. 

The wise mother becomes very resourceful in 
stories, because she knows them to be one of the best 
means of management and of making a child happy, 
brave, gallant and unselfish instead of timid, cruel, 
cowardly or selfish. 

THE KINDERGARTEN. 

So far, we have considered two of the kinder¬ 
garten instrumentalities, finger plays and stories, and 
before we consider the kindergarten educational toys 
or gifts, occupations, songs and games, it will be well 
to gain some insight into the kindergarten itself where 
all of the different instrumentalities are combined in 
a program; where the work of each day is related to the 
week, each week to the month, and each month to 
the whole year. 

When Frederick Froebel thought of kindergarten 
as the fit name for the school designed by him for the 
child upon leaving the nursery, he cried “ Eureka 1” 
Kindergarten means child-garden. 

Oh, wonderful apostle of childhood, how well he 
knew that— 

“In the child-garden buds and blows 
A blossom lovelier than the rose, 

Of beauty hath the flower, the whole— 

And its name—the Human Soul.” 

Just as the flower in the garden needs the right 
soil, plenty of sunshine, fresh air, dew and rain, a 


190 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


kind, loving, wise and careful gardener to keep out 
the weeds, to give proper shelter from the wind, to 
trim and train the little plant to grow, so the kinder¬ 
garten and the kindergartener provide for the 
human plant the proper conditions for growth and 
development. 

“The kindergarten is designed to give the child 
plant suitable climate, soil, exposure, careful nurture, 
and happy occupation for the activities of body, mind, 
and soul; and opportunities of learning of those rela¬ 
tionships which bind man to his fellow creatures, to 
nature, and to God.” 

The kindergarten -strives to produce a self- 
governing child and one that is creative through his 
own activity. 

The kindergarten gives the child something to do. 
The mother may do the same in the nursery. If she 
is not a trained kindergartener, she may use kinder¬ 
garten materials by studying and acquainting herself 
with them. Without a knowledge of the kindergarten 
material she would not have a desirable result, and 
might tax the child beyond its limit. 

Let the mother study to give the child something 
to do and there will be less “Don’t!” inflicted upon 
the little occupants of the nursery. 

Kate Douglas Wiggin aptly says, “How inex¬ 
pressibly tiresome is the everlasting 4 Don’t!’ in some 
households. Don’t get in the fire, don’t get in the 
water, don’t tease the baby, don’t interrupt, don’t 
contradict, don’t fight with your brother, and don’t 
worry me now; while perhaps in this whole tirade not 
a word has been said of something to do.” 

Froebel gives the child in the kindergarten some¬ 
thing to do through talks, stories, song, games, toys 
and work. The mother who uses the kindergarten 
materials must have a purpose in her play, and then 
see that everything is carefully put away after use. 
In order for the child to cultivate the habit of atten- 







ill 

a 



1 : ' \ 



1. A “Country Villa” for a doll, which cost Eighty Dollars. 

2. A fullv equipped Stable in miniature, which cost One Hundred and 
Twenty Dollars. 













































BABY PLAYS. 


191 


tion and concentration one must have the children 
ready to hear and to do the brief play as long as it 
lasts.* 

THE KINDERGARTEN TOYS. 

Froebel called his toys or educational playthings 
“gifts.” 

A gift usually implies a giver, and to Froebel, God 
was the giver of his so-called gifts which he regarded 
as keys to the natural world and its laws. 

He began with the ball, because it is the simplest 
shape and because it represents a unit and unity. 

The first gift consists of six soft woolen balls of 
the primary colors red, orange, yellow, green, blue, 
violet. From the ball we proceed to the second gift 
which consists of the hard wooden ball the same size 
as the soft ball—and the cylinder and cube. This 
second gift is related with the first through the ball. * 

The second gift gives contrast in form and proves 
that there is union between entirely opposite things, 
which to Froebel was a very vital law. The ball rolls, 
the cube stands, and the cylinder both stands and rolls. 

From the second gift we proceed to the third, 
which is a cube the size of the second gift cube, and 
which is divided into eight small cubes. With this gift 
the child may satisfy his instinct of investigation, as 
he can here take apart and put together again. From 
the third we progress to the fourth gift, which is a 
cube still the same size, divided into eight bricks. 

From the fourth gift we progress to the fifth, 
which is the third gift enlarged and divided into half 
cubes and quarter cubes, and introducing a new tri¬ 
angular face. 

Then we progress to the sixth gift, which is the 
fourth gift enlarged and divided into half bricks and 
quarter bricks. 

•Standard guides dealing with the methods and materials used 
in the Kindergarten may be obtained through the Kindergarten 
Publisher; also a list of Kindergarten Books, Songs and Games. 



192 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


These six gifts constitute the so-called Building 
Gifts, and they call for a progressive increase of 
dexterity. 

FroebeFs work material or occupation that corre¬ 
sponds with these building gifts is clay. With this 
material the child may make balls or spheres, cubes 
and cylinders, and may cut them in halves and quar¬ 
ters, and reconstruct and invent. 

Now suppose we could take a wooden cube and cut 
off slices as we cut them from a loaf of bread, and we 
would have so many slices or surfaces, thus from a 
solid we derive a surface. 

The seventh gift is composed of thin wooden tab¬ 
lets derived from the surfaces of different solids. 

From the cube we get the square surface, from the 
ball round faces, and from the cylinder we get round 
and oblong faces. 

There are also triangular surfaces, one from the 
half cube and three from the equilateral triangle. 

The occupation work material corresponding to 
this gift is square, circular and triangular papers of 
different sizes and colors for geometrical folding 
sequences, also for cutting and weaving and pasting 
of parquetry papers. 

Now if we were to take the surface and cut it into 
strips, we would have straight lines—the eighth gift 
is composed of sticks of different lengths which repre¬ 
sent lines. 

The ninth gift is composed of sizes of rings to 
represent the circular lines, and the occupation 
material corresponding to this gift is sewing and 
drawing. 

Then as a line is composed of a succession of 
points, so the next and last gift is the point. For this 
seeds are used. The occupation related to this gift is 
pricking, bead stringing, etc. Thus one sees that all of 
the kindergarten material is most wonderfully planned 
and related. 


BABY PLAYS. 193 

Many people argue against using the kindergarten 
material in the home, but Froebel based his theory of 
educational play upon the natural play of the nursery. 

He would have the mother study his Mother Play 
Book and prepare the child in the home for the 
kindergarten. 

THE NURSERY AND ITS HOME AND KINDER¬ 
GARTEN EQUIPMENT. 

Do you want a glimpse of a nursery with its equip¬ 
ment of home and kindergarten materials? 

Let us open the door! 

What do we see? 

Low, sunny windows, pots of growing plants, a 
bowl of fishes, and, perhaps, a bird, cat or dog; plain 
furniture and hard wood floor, with a rug of a size to 
be easily rolled and put out of the way. 

There are a few pictures on the wall. 

Just above the wainscoting there is a border of 
kindergarten cut-out pictures. These may be obtained 
through any large wall-paper company, and are quite 
inexpensive. They are printed miscellaneously on 
wide strips of wall paper, in sections, and are to be 
cut out and arranged as desired. Barnyard, Jungle 
or Noah’s Ark animals may be made to march in a 
fascinating line on the nursery wall. 

The six balls of the first kindergarten gift are 
hanging somewhere in the room, as these are what 
Froebel designed for use with the baby in the home. 
These balls, which are previously described, are easily 
made by the mother. They are the size of a bouncing 
ball and are crocheted in red, orange, yellow, green, 
blue, and violet worsted over balls of cotton and 
worsted foundations. 

We will also see in the nursery a low couch with 
pillows, low shelves for books and toys, also a box for 
the latter. 


VOL. 1—13 


194 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


There is a low table for work and several small 
chairs. 

There is a sand table in one corner. This is a low, 
water-tight box mounted on legs with casters, and is 
covered with denim when not in use. A dust-pan and 
brush are near by to sweep up the “mistakes.” 

Mothers need not sigh at the thought of playing 
with sand in the house, as children learn to play care¬ 
fully, and if the sand is not properly used, of course 
the use of it is forfeited temporarily. 

Tin molds, spoons, and pails will occupy a child 
for a long time. 

Oh, the joy of trickling dry sand through the fin¬ 
gers, of digging wells in the wet sand, making moun¬ 
tains and valleys, and mapping out farms, orchards, 
cities, rivers and lakes. 

In the nursery closet there are ample drawers and 
shelves for material. 

There are the blocks in boxes made especially for 
them. There should be a large number of blocks, un¬ 
colored and of the forms found in Froebel’s building 
gifts. 

The Hennessey Blocks are most satisfactory for 
nursery use. One may have the following blocks made 
to order through the Kindergarten Supply House, 
and feel well equipped: 100 cubes 2x2x2 inches, 50 
half cubes, 50 quarter cubes; 100 bricks or oblongs 
4x2x1, 50 half bricks 4x1x1; 2 or 3 cones with a 
base two inches in diameter; and the same number 
of pyramids with a base 2x2. It is well to keep the 
different kinds of blocks separated. 

What are you able to build with your blocks ? 

Castles and palaces, temples and docks. 

Rain may keep raining, and others may roam 1 

But I can be happy in building a home. 

Let the sofa be mountain, the carpet be sea, 

There I’ll establish a city for me, 

A kirk and a mill and a palace beside 

And a harbor as well, where my vessels may ride. 


BABY PLAYS. 


195 


It may readily be seen that in learning to balance 
the blocks, the child grows more skilful and more pre¬ 
cise. He invents new things and gains his first knowl¬ 
edge of architecture. 

Next to the boxes of blocks there is a good sized 
crock containing clay, ready for use. 

Clay may be obtained from the Kindergarten Sup¬ 
ply House already prepared, in the form of a brick 
or in a powder. To prepare either brick or powder, 
place in a clean cloth and soak in water until soft 
enough to knead, which it may be in four to five hours. 
After a few times the preparation of clay will not 
seem such a great task, and when once in shape, may 
be used over and over again, each time leaving the 
clay ready for use in the crock. Do not forget to keep 
some of the objects made by the children. A coat of 
enamel paint will preserve them, and make flower-pots 
and bowls water-tight. The nursery cabinet with its 
display of such kinds of work is the children’s treas¬ 
ure house. 

In presenting clay to the children the mother may 
vary the form by making it into a large ball, cube, 
brick, or apple, etc., and cutting it with a string into 
pieces the size she desires to give to each child. 

Every child delights in making the clay balls, 
marbles, eggs, nests, baskets, dishes, cakes, cookies 
and animals! 

Yes, it is dusty, but with oil-cloth on the table and 
a cloth spread over the rug, everything may be taken 
up and shaken out-of-doors. Little hands may clap 
the clay off and then be washed. 

On a closet shelf one will see the enlarged kinder¬ 
garten, wooden peg-board, or tiles with plain or col¬ 
ored pegs; here soldiers may march in rows, and 
pretty work may be designed by putting balls of the 
first gift beads over the pegs. 

There is at least one gross of the enlarged Hail- 
mann Beads with shoe laces on which to string them. 
These beads come in the forms of the sphere, cube, 


196 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and cylinder of the second gift, both plain and colored. 
The child loves to string these, picking out beads of 
the same color and shape or alternating the same, 
which may be done in many different ways. 

There is a box of plain chalk and another of colored 
chalk for use on the blackboard. 

There are boxes of colored crayons with which to 
draw free hand, and also to fill in outlines of fruits, 
flowers or animals as it may be. 

There is the paint-box, which must be introduced 
with care. It is well to let the work with paints be 
done on a large blotter, which absorbs water quickly 
in case of accident. A smaller blotter may be used on 
the work itself and with a small piece of cloth to wipe 
off the brush, one is prepared to do tidy work. 

Blunt scissors are a necessary part of the nursery 
outfit, but must be introduced under close supervision 
until the child knows the right use. 

The child may cut out pictures to paste in scrap¬ 
books. These books are best made of remnants of 
window shades, which may be obtained at the furni¬ 
ture store. Stitch the leaves together and pink the 
edges. 

They may make the scrap-book in the ordinal 
way, or they may plan an animal book, a farmyard 
book, or a book of birds, or automobiles and trains, 
and other means of travel interesting to the child in 
question. A little girl delights in making a house 
scrap-book, each page representing a room, wherein 
furniture catalogues and fashion-plate dolls are much 
valued. 

Having learned the use of scissors, the child is 
ready to construct things. For this work one needs 
large sheets of plain wrapping paper or heavy brown 
tag which may be ordered of the Kindergarten Supply 
House in convenient sizes ( i . e. 6 x 9 inches and 9 x 12), 
and a jar of photographer’s paste, diluted with water 
to a thin, smooth consistency. 


BABY PLAYS. 


197 


Children love to construct. 

It is quite surprising to see what may he made out 
of empty boxes. Shoe boxes pasted together and 
fastened with brass fasteners make most satisfactory 
barns with stalls for horses, stores with counters and 
shelves, or doll houses. 

The doll house must be prepared, and curtains put 
at the windows. A square of denim, fringed, makes a 
good art square for the floor, and then comes the need 
of furniture. The foundation for the construction of 
paper furniture is a square of paper carefully folded 
into sixteen squares. 

The table is made by making two cuts, each one 
square long and two squares apart, on opposite sides. 
The paper is then folded in the shape of a box, pasted 
and inverted, with little oblong places cut from each 
side, leaving the table legs. 

To make a chair, first cut off a strip of four squares 
and then a strip of three squares, leaving nine. Make 
a box out of the nine squares, and then make the hack 
from the strips that were cut off. To make a rocker, 
paste half circles on the chair. 

To make a clock, cut off a strip of four squares, 
leaving twelve. Make two cuts, each one square long 
and two squares apart, and fold into an oblong box. 
Make a second box the same as the first and place one 
within the other to describe a solid box. Paste a white 
circle on an upper square for clock face. 

A stove is made the same as the table, only with 
black paper; a strip is pasted on the back side for the 
funnel, and four circles are pasted on the top for stove 
covers. 

In making a bureau, the box made from sixteen 
squares is stood on one side with hollow side facing, 
two oblong boxes are fitted into this with collar but¬ 
tons for knobs. 

Pasteboard boxes make good wagons; the wheels 
being made of milk bottle discs and collar buttons. 


198 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Substantial wooden furniture may be made from 
white wood one-fourth of an inch thick, and ordered 
in the following sizes from the Kindergarten Supply 
House: 6x6 inch squares, 2x2 inch squares, and 
4x2 inch oblongs. 

A doll’s table is made by gluing a 6 x 6 inch square 
on a large spool. 

The chair is made by using the oblong for the back 
and gluing two small squares for the front and seat. 

In working with this material one will readily find 
out how to construct other pieces of furniture. 

A kindergarten catalogue will be found in the 
nursery closet, as it is indispensible in ordering sup¬ 
plies such as paper for constructing, drawing, pasting 
papers for chains, and parquetry, squares and circles 
for stringing. 

A kindergarten magazine will be kept on file on 
some shelf. 

GARDEN AND NATURE WORK. 

Froebel would lay much stress upon gardening and 
nature work. The child whose home is near garden, 
field, and wood, will find a wealth of play material, 
such as seeds, nuts, sticks, twigs, and stones. Children 
are born collectors, and much that is carried home 
may be utilized in the sand box for fences, well curbs, 
trees, etc. 

With the possession of very little land, a child will 
be able to raise beans enough to bake, or, perhaps, 
pumpkins for pies and a Jack-o’-lantern, or, again, 
popcorn for Thanksgiving or Christmas. 

Where there is no opportunity for this, there re¬ 
mains the possibility of the indoor garden or window- 
box. Here one may plant hothouse plants, or bulbs, 
which may be had at a florist’s for a few cents each. In 
filling the window box one must have the best of soil, 
some stones and bits of charcoal for the bottom. The 
bulbs are left in a dark place until well rooted before 
being brought to the light in October. 


BABY PLAYS. 


199 


By Christmas time one may have the nursery 
abloom with daffodils, tulips, hyacinths and crocuses. 

Nature walks may he one of the delights of the 
Sabbath day, a day which so many children find 
dreary. It is through the world of nature as well as 
/through the lives of those about him that the child 
gains experiences which prepare him to understand 
the simple lessons of the Bible. 

Parents may differ upon the choice of Sunday oc¬ 
cupation and recreation for the child, but they will all 
surely agree that it is good to bring something of 
worth to the child on that day and which has not been 
with him on all the other days of the week. 

Let us not leave the spiritual education to the Sab¬ 
bath alone! 

Froebel would have the mother filled with piety 
and reflect the spiritual nature as she develops the 
physical and the mental. 

HOW AND WHAT TO PLAY WITH CHILDREN. 

And now, what shall we play, and how? 

First, let us take the most universal of playthings, 
the ball, and roll it back and forth, finally introducing 
the signal, “One, two, three, roll!” Stand a tall block 
or tenpin on the floor and roll the ball to knock it down. 
Place a nickel call bell on the floor and roll the ball to 
make it ring. 

If you have the kindergarten balls, you will be 
ready for some ball plays. First, learn the colors, red, 
orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, one at a time, and 
match them to articles of the same color in the nursery, 
such as draperies, wall paper, rugs, mother’s dress, or 
sister’s hair ribbon. Put six balls in a row and ask 
the child to shut his eyes. You take one ball away, and 
ask the child to open his eyes and tell which ball is 
gone. Hide all of the balls and let the child bring 
them to your lap, name the balls over and see if there 
is one missing, and if so, name that, Hide a ball and 


200 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


call out “hot,” “cold,” “burning,” as the child goes 
toward or away from the ball. 

Let the child hunt for his lunch cracker in the same 
way. 

Try to toss the ball in the air and catch it, using 
the signal, “One, two, three, toss!” Toss the ball to 
some one else, then throw and bound ball, then make a 
ring with twine on the rug, or chalk on the floor and 
roll ball into it. 

A pretty game may be played with the waste¬ 
basket placed in the center of the room. If there are 
a number to play, all the better. Each one is given a 
colored ball and told to wait for the signal, “One, two, 
three, throw!” All throw at once, but stand still to 
see where the balls go. The mother then invites some 
one to go to the basket and see if any balls have gone 
in, and count them as they are taken out one at a time. 
The signal then may be given to pick the balls up and 
begin over again. There will be no confusion if the 
mother is particular in regard to the signals of the 
game. 

Take bean bags and throw them to another; stand 
in a certain place and throw the bags in a box or 
basket, or march with one on the head to see how 
many times you may carry it around the room without 
dropping it. 

Place waste-basket across the room and stand be¬ 
side the child. Give the signal for a race to see who 
will get their bags in the basket first, taking one at a 
time. The bags may be placed in regular intervals 
across the floor as are potatoes in the potatoe race. 
It is great fun to watch father and mother race. 

There are the sense games. 

Let the child close his eyes, and give him different 
things to taste, and if he guesses, clap hands, and if he 
is not successful, let him see what was given to taste. 

Let the child stand with his back to the mother who 
places different articles one at a time in his hands. 
He feels the article over and guesses what it is. 


BABY PLAYS. 


201 


Blindfold the child or just have the eyes closed, 
and ring a bell in different directions—above the head, 
down at the feet, at the right, or left, and in the differ¬ 
ent corners of the room. The child points in the direc¬ 
tion where he thinks the bell is, whereupon he opens 
his eyes to see if he was correct. 

There is the quiet game of “ Kitty.” Place a dish 
by mother’s rocker, if she is busy with her hands. 
The “Kitty” goes to a certain corner and walks on 
tip-toe to get the dish of milk without mother’s know¬ 
ing it. If she hears “Kitty,” she cries “Meow,” and 
the “Kitty” scampers back to try over again. 

Another game to play, when mother is mending, 
is “Grocery man.” The child is the grocery man, and 
knocks at the door to take orders. You say, “Come 
in.” “What do you wish today?” asks the man. 
“Let me see—one pound of tea, two pounds of butter 
and one dozen eggs.” “Thank you. I’ll bring them 
up right away.” And off goes the miniature grocery 
man for his imaginary goods and delivers them. This 
may be played over and over, as there is an increasing 
interest in the different orders of groceries given. 

The “ice man” may be played for variation. He 
calls with his cart full of blocks and asks, “How much 
ice today?” and you order a large piece or one half as 
big, as the need may be. 

The mother may play at housekeeping with the 
little girls—wash, sweep, dust, cook, sew, make beds, 
and dress and undress the doll babies. Really play 
doll and see how rejuvenated you will feel. 

Every child likes to play horse in one way or an¬ 
other. The little baby loves to trot on father’s foot 
with a little tumble at the end; or ride to Banbury 
Cross on father’s knee; and as he grows older he rides 
the hobby-horse or the rocking-horse, or plays horse 
with a pair of reins. 

A certain little boy did not show any desire to play 
horse until the lot next door was being excavated for 
a cellar, and then as he watched the horses drive away 


202 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


with loads of dirt, lie mounted the rocker and gave 
commands, “ Cl ’k! Dap horse! Whoa! Backup!” 

One day when his mother put on the afternoon suit, 
and was fastening the belt, the little boy pulled from 
her and said, “Go horse!” which was interpreted as 
an invitation, and away went mother and her little 
pony around the house. The tape measure and a piece 
of woolen dress braid served as reins until Grandma 
knitted some beautiful ones with bells on the collar. 

Oh, there are many ways to play horse. Choose a 
place for a barn. Harness the horse and go for a ride. 
He trots, runs, gallops, walks. Water him. If he 
stumbles and limps, look to see if a stone is in his foot, 
then drive to the barn, and unharness him. Rub the 
horse down, and if he is not too warm, feed him, and 
then lock the barn. 

Play the horse is free in the pasture. He runs, and 
gallops, and rolls over, and then prances oft again. 
Try to catch him, and he gallops away. This is great 
fun! Hold out a measure of oats and when he comes 
to eat some catch him gently by the forelock, pat him, 
put on the halter and lead to the stable. 

Drive to town with butter and eggs, in wagon, leav¬ 
ing the same at the grocery store and at the houses of 
different people. 

A child likes to play horse by sitting in a rocker 
and throwing his reins over the back of another rocker, 
which stands for a horse. 

To play trolley-car place chairs in a row facing one 
way. If the child is the conductor, he must pull the 
bell by reaching the hand up high and then drawing it 
down as quickly as possible, saying, “Ding!” If the 
trolley goes off of the wire, he must put it on. He must 
call out the names of the streets, ring the bell for the 
car to start and stop, and take up the fares. 

If the child is a passenger, he may put his lunch 
basket under the seat and at the end of the ride, play, 
run to the park, the pond, the ocean, or the woods, and 
then go home. 


BABY PLAYS. 


203 


Children love to take a journey on the train. Per¬ 
haps they buy a ticket to visit mother, who will stop 
from her sewing long enough to receive a short call, 
hear about the trip, and see her guest on the car and 
say good-bye with the invitation to come again. 

Mother may play “take a walk in the woods” with 
the children. Leaves are thrown over head, feet are 
scuffed through the leaves, and then follows a hunt for 
nuts; play crack some on a stone to feed the squirrels, 
then run home. 

One may play “take a winter’s walk.” First run 
briskly, slide on the icy places on the sidewalk, stamp 
the feet to get them warm, throw arms against chest 
as teamsters do, shake hands to get fingers warm, then 
blow on the hands. 

In the winter there is skating. Run to the pond, 
put on the skates, and “make believe” skate. Waltz 
music adds much to the joy of this exercise and helps 
-to develop a graceful movement. 

A simple two-step, skip and march will add much 
to such activities as stepping lightly, walking fast, then 
more slowly, breaking into a run, walking on tip-toe, 
walking on the heels, then backwards, hopping on one 
foot, then on both feet, jumping and skipping. The 
mother may be the leader and let the child follow, 
imitating each movement as it is introduced, or she 
may give the commands at the piano. 

In the spring there are the activities of flying a 
kite, spinning a top, rolling a hoop, bouncing the ball, 
and jumping the rope. 

These suggestions are for plays that emphasize a 
gymnastic element. 

For the more graceful motions of flying like birds 
and butterflies, music is needed to help to accentuate 
rhythm of movement. 

WIDENING THE CHILD’S WORLD. 

We have considered the nursery with ideal equip¬ 
ment, and if the mother is the possession of such 


204 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


conditions, she will happily work to widen her child’s 
world. 

She will base her work upon environment as the 
child realizes only that which he experiences. 

The mother may begin by encouraging the child to 
help her by taking a part in the nursery housekeeping, 
such as cleaning the blackboard, watering the plants, 
feeding the fishes, and other pets, and putting the play¬ 
things away. As time goes on he learns to show his 
thanks to mother for her loving care, in being kind to 
her, running on little errands about the house, playing 
nicely with the baby, and by being obedient and 
respectful. 

Suppose the nursery window looks out upon a busy 
street, there the child will see the policeman on duty, 
the electric car passing, the mail man, the express 
wagon, the grocery team, perhaps the fire-engine on 
its way to save houses and, it may be, people’s lives. 
There is a shoe-maker’s store near by, and a little 
farther on the dry-goods store and market. The 
mother here has an opportunity to emphasize her 
dependence upon all of these people, and also their 
dependence upon her, and to lead the child to realize 
the true dignity and value of labor. 

The mother must try to find the hidden meaning 
in what is near rather than afar oft, and play what 
the child suggests, sees and knows. 

The child may be led to notice the sky, the clouds, 
the sunbeams dancing through the windows, showers 
of rain, the whistle of the wind, the beauty of the snow¬ 
flakes, the frost pictures on the window pane, and the 
twinkling of stars. 

It is the mother’s blessed privilege to teach just 
what is expressed in this little poem: 

“All things bright and beautiful 
All creatures great and small. 

All things wise and wonderful— 

The Lord God made them all. 


BABY PLAYS. 


205 


Each little flower that opens. 

Each little bird that sings, 

He made their glowing colors. 

He made their tiny wings. 

The tall trees in the green wood, 

The pleasant summer sun. 

The ripe fruits in the garden— 

He made them, every one. 

He gave us eyes to see them. 

And lips that we might tell 
How great is God Almighty, 

Who hath made all things well.” 

If parents want to gain the confidence of their 
children and wonld have the little ones come to them 
for sympathy and understanding, instead of going to 
outsiders, they must enter into the play interests of 
the nursery. 

Froebel appeals to parents thus— 

‘‘Play is not trivial, it is highly serious and of deep 
significance. Cultivate and foster it, oh, mother; pro¬ 
tect and guide it, oh, father. To the calm, keen vision 
of one who truly knows human nature, the spontane¬ 
ous play of the child discloses the future life of the 
man. ’’ 

Ideal play in the home is part mother and father 
and child. We can not demand entrance into the life 
of the child, if we do there is no satisfaction. Only 
by sharing a real interest in what the child does do 
we draw him to us. 

Happy the house where the mother plays with her 
children. One who works every moment is no joy to 
herself or her family, and she never knows what it is 
to be the glorified mother at the end of the day. 

The study of clothing, food and hygiene constitute 
a part of the mother’s duties toward her child, but is 
not mother play of equal importance? 


206 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Physical Exercises and Motion Plays. 

Intkoduction. 

Play holds the sources of all that is good. By means of play 
the child expands in joy as the flower expands when it proceeds from 
the bud; for joy is the soul of all the actions of that age. ”—Froebel. 

remarkable interest in children’s play mani- 
teH fested throughout the land, would seem to indi- 
cate that the majority of people who have given 
the subject any thought, are agreed that the right kind 
of play is good for children, just as wise forms of 
recreation are good for older ones; that the children 
have a right to play; and further, that that com¬ 
munity which does not provide adequate play oppor¬ 
tunities for its children is falling far short of its duty 
to the country and its citizens to be. 

History tells us that some of the plays, and toys 
used in play, by modern children, such as dolls, tops, 
balls, and so forth, were also familiar to the ancient 
Egyptians. The Greeks were the first to introduce 
play and exercise into their scheme of education, and 
since those early days the foremost educators have 
advocated play for children as a necessary part of 
their education. 

Friedrich Froebel, the founder of the kinder¬ 
garten, has most nearly realized the “deep meaning” 
that “oft lies hid in childish play,” and has shown 
the world how to use this play as a means of unfold- 
ment for the child. 

Today the influence of the kindergarten with its 
motive of play or pleasurable activity, is felt through¬ 
out the early school years, and as a result children are 
more interested to learn, and they enjoy school life 
much more than in former days. 

Many theories have been advanced in explanation 
of the phenomena of play. The Schiller-Spencer 
theory holds play to be the indication of an over¬ 
abundance of energy, an overflow of animal spirits in 





PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


207 


the organism which takes form in meaningless, 
pleasurable activity. Prof. Karl Groos, a German 
philosopher, has written exhaustively upon the play 
of animals as well as of man, and has presented the 
theory of play from six different standpoints,—the 
physiological, the biological, the psychological, the 
aesthetic, the sociological, and the pedagogical. He 
tells us that play reveals the breadth or limitation of 
the child’s horizon, the independence of his character, 
or his need of support and direction. 

Some thinkers have advanced the idea that man 
has a period of childhood in order that he may play; 
that play is an end in itself, and to go one step further 
we might add that in the plays of children, may be 
seen the same creative activity, expressive of the inner 
man, which we find later in sculpture, painting, litera¬ 
ture, and the drama. 

The play period of childhood seems, to certain 
writers, to be but a preparation for later life; others 
see in it the recapitulation of the life of the race. It 
may be that all of these theories have a bit of the 
truth. Play is unquestionably a vital experience of 
childhood, and of this fact one can not help becoming 
convinced, and seeing its significance, if he makes a 
study of children for only a brief period of time. The 
question is how to encourage the right kind of play 
and what that kind shall be. 

Often it is difficult to provide for play in the home, 
and for a very few children. One’s resources are 
taxed to the utmost when the little people ask, “What 
can we do now ? ” “ What can we play ? ’ ’ Furthermore 
when left entirely to themselves the little ones are 
sometimes unwise in their choice of activities. 

In an attempt to meet these needs the following 
pages have been prepared, with the hope that the ex¬ 
ercises carried out in the atmosphere of play and 
healthful imagination, may prove of real interest and 
value to the children. 


208 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


A simplified form of a “day’s order” as set forth 
in the Ling system of Swedish gymnastics, has been 
made the basis of each series of activity, and the 
mental and physical interests and needs in the period 
of earliest childhood have been carefully considered. 

For the reason that the plays and games of chil¬ 
dren recur ofttimes in the cycle of the seasons, the sug¬ 
gestions which follow have been planned with the 
thought of making them adaptable to the spring, the 
summer, the autumn, and the winter, and in conclu¬ 
sion to offer a few singing games borrowed from the 
northland, Scandinavia. 

Leaders in the development of physical education, 
have appreciated the need of activity for all people, 
and a unification of some of their ideals with the free, 
spontaneous activity of the kindergarten in rhythm, 
in games and plays, descriptive, imitative, and dra¬ 
matic, is the plan of these suggestions, having in mind 
the imaginative world in which the child lives. 

General Instructions. 

1. In the following Exercises and Motion Plays, 
it is intended that an older person shall sit by and 
act as prompter, as it were, giving the children enough 
of a story to interest them, and at the same time indi¬ 
cating when a change should be made to the next 
activity. 

2. Care should be taken not to continue one activ¬ 
ity for too long a time. 

3. Always see that the children exercise in fresh 
and comfortably cool air. 

4. Children should wear romping clothes as light 
in weight as possible. 

5. The plays and especially the nursery exercises, 
are adapted to the use of one child as well as to a 
group of children. 

6. A dramatic interest is added if some suggestion 
of an appropriate costume may be used. For example, 
feathers for the Indian play. 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


209 


CHILD’S ORDER OF EXERCISES. 

1. Preliminary—rhythmic, easy and of an all around 

nature; breathing. 

2. Arm exercise—breathing; stretching, throwing,etc. 

3. Body exercise—not especially localized in action. 

4. Leg exercise—balancing, dancing, walking, etc. 

5. Body exercise—especially for the back, like stoop¬ 

ing and rising. 

6. Running exercise—running, skipping, hopping and 

jumping. 

7. Breathing exercise—usually accompanied by some 

mild activity. 

Note.—The exercises begin mildly, working up to a climax of 
physical effort and interest at about No. 6 and then slowing down to 
perfect rest. 

SPRINGTIME. 


Nursery Exercises —7. 

1. Stretching the Rope: 

Lie flat on your back with arms stretching 
straight over your head. Stretch with all 
your might and make yourself as long as 
possible. 

Sometimes mother may take hold of your 
ankles and gently pull while you hold tight 
to your bed. (Three times.) 

2. Blowing Willow Whistles : For Breathing. 

Stand on the floor or on the bed; take a 
deep full breath and pretend to blow slowly 
on a wooden whistle. (Three times.) 

3. Tall Grass Blades: Arm Exercise. 

Arms stretched up over head; stand tall 
on tiptoe. Stretch while counting 5. (Twice.) 

4. Turning Somersaults: Trunk Exercise. 

Turn three times on the bed. 

5. Oriole’s Nest: Arm Exercise; also for straight¬ 

ening back. 

Hang easily on a little bar, made of ropes 
and a broom stick, or a regular gymnastic bar, 


VOL. 1-14 






210 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and hanging just out of reach. Hang and 
count to 5, to 7, and to 10, three times re¬ 
spectively. 

6. Runaway Pony: General Exercise. 

Canter several times around the room—or 
rooms. 

7. Pony is caught: 

He stands, pawing the ground, and at the 
same time tossing his head, and sniffing the 
fresh air. 

Nursery Exercises —77. 

1. Cock-a-doodle-do! 

The early little rooster stands on his two 
feet, throws his chest forward and head back, 
and crows three times, taking in much breath 
before each crow. 

2. Seesaw: 

The child places his hands on a chair, or 
back of a little chair, and bends and stretches 
his legs, going up and down as if he were 
really on a seesaw. (Ten times.) 

Nurse sings a “Seesaw” song in kinder¬ 
garten music, or playfully repeats “up” 
“down” the desired number of times. 

3. “Ding Dong, Bell”: 

Children stretch up with their arms as 
high as possible, and pull down as if pulling 
on a bell-rope, while Nurse repeats “Ding 
dong, bell, Pussy’s in the well,” etc. 

4. “Dance of the Little Men”: 

Children dance lightly on their tiptoes, 
keeping time to the little kindergarten rhyme: 

“Thumb man says he’ll dance, 

Thumb man says he’ll sing; 

Dance and sing, ye merry little men: 

Thumb man says he’ll dance and sing.” 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


211 


5. Swimming: 

Lie face down on the bed, or on a pillow 
placed on the floor, and try to swim like a 
frog. 

6. Walking, then skipping, pretending to turn a 

jump rope. 

7. Blowing a Pin-Wheel: 

Breath in and blow. A real paper pin- 
wheel may easily be made. 

Motion Plays. 

7. The Awakening of Spring . 

PLAYERS. 

A Violet. 

A Mayflower. 

A Robin. 

A Bluebird. 

1. Flowers lie sleeping. Birds perched on two chairs 

in a south room. Fairy tiptoes in, touches the 
flowers gently, and they begin to stretch, and rub 
their eyes, then slowly stand. Boy and girl call 
out to the Robin and the Bluebird to fly up from 
the south, for spring has come. The birds fly 
with wings spread wide,—the flowers are now 
wide awake, and all join hands in a ring and 
dance around together. 

2. The birds show them how to stretch their “play” 

wings and fly around the room. 

3. The Violet leads the way through tall grass in the 

meadow where the children have to lift their feet 
high at every step, and finally they come to the 
brook where the Violets grow. 

4. All gather violets. Bend and take a Violet. 

5. Across the brook, and up the hill is a place where 

the mayflowers grow. Little Mayflower leads the 
way, crawling on hands and knees, to hunt for 
the tiny pink blossoms. 


A Fairy. 
A Boy. 
A Girl. 


212 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


6. A strong chair or box, or flight of steps serves well 

for a great stone from which to jump, landing in 
a soft mossy bed. 

7. Breathe deeply, smelling the fragrant woods and 

flowers. The fairy waves her wand, all turn 
themselves around, and find that they are boys 
and girls again, and at home. 

II. May Bay. (Indoors or out.) 

“Girls and boys come out to play 
For ’tis the Merry Month of May.” 

1. Off to the woods to gather flowers and branches, 

walking, skipping, and running. 

2. Reach up in the trees for branches. 

Stoop down on the ground for flowers. 

Run home and play decorate your windows. 

3. The Queen of the May is chosen, then led by two 

courtiers, followed by a train of others, to her 
throne of green. 4 ‘Robin Hood” enters with a 
wreath of flowers and crowns her Queen of the 
May. 

4-. All join hands and dance in a circle for the Queen. 
Music: “Hungarian Csardasch.” 

A. Slide eight times to right. 

B. Slide eight times to left. 

C. Face partner, join hands and turn around 

with him or her (8 counts). 

D. March in couples in a circle (8 counts). 

Repeat from beginning. 

5. Walk with partner to seats and bow. 

6. Playing horse: One horse for every driver; strong 

tape may serve for reins. 

A. Walking Horses. 

B. Galloping Horses. 

C. High-stepping Horses. 

7. Departure of the May Queen: 

Four children form the chariot, by standing 
in couples, joining hands, and also joining outside 



“PLAYING HORSE.”—A favorite form of “Make-believe” with the children of every nation. 









PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


213 


hands with couples in front or back to complete 
the square. The other children act as horses, and 
prance along in front of the carriage. 

111. The Farmer Boy. 

1. Driving the cows to pasture in the meadows: 

One child with a handkerchief drives the oth¬ 
ers, who walk leisurely around the room or rooms 
several times. 

2. Stretching up to gather apple blossoms from the 

trees. 

3. Climbing an apple tree: 

Have large strong rope hung from doorway 
or ceiling, or a small ladder securely fastened to 
the floor, and slanting toward the wall, where also 
it is fastened. 

4. Sowing the seed: 

Walk carefully in a straight line, carrying 
sack of seed under one arm, and rhythmically 
throw handfuls of seed upon the ground, with a 
large swinging movement of the arm. Change 
arms. 

5. Rake up the hay into piles. 

6. Run and jump into the piles of hay, or vault over a 

low fence, using a bench for the fence. 

7. Windmill on the Farm: 

Children raise arms; sideways, then upward, 
then lower, and breathe deeply at the same time. 

IV. Mother Goose Exercises. 

1 . “Simple Simon met a pieman going to the fair,” etc. 

Children walk quickly around the room, one- 
half going one way and one-half the other. 

And this is what he saw at the fair,— 

2. “Yankee Doodle came to town riding on a pony, 

He put a feather in his cap and called it Macaroni!” 

Children pretend to ride on ponies, keeping 
time to the verse. 


214 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


3. "Mistress Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? 

With silver bells and cockle-shells, and pretty maids all in 
a row.” 

Children lie on their sides on the floor with 
their knees curled up. One child walks about pre¬ 
tending to sprinkle the flowers. As the names 
are sung, the different flowers raise their heads, 
then sit up straight, and finally stand. 

4. "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, 

Jack jump over the candlestick.” 

Children jump over a low stick or mark as 
the words 4 ‘Jump over” are repeated. 

5. "Old King Cole was a merry old soul, 

And a merry old soul was he. 

He called for his wife and he called for his glass 
And he called for his fiddlers three.” 

Children march in step to the rhythm and pre¬ 
tend to be “fiddling” on an instrument. 

6. "King around the Rosies, 

Pocket full of posies. 

All the girls and all the boys 
Shout for Uncle Joses.” 

All join hands and dance in a ring with a glid¬ 
ing motion. 

7. "Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn. 

The sheep’s in the meadow. 

The cow’s in the corn. 

Where is the boy that looks after the sheep? 

He is under the haycock fast asleep.” 

Children take deep breaths, and blow into a 
horn, and then lie down and pretend to sleep. 

V. Indians. 

j 

Idaho, Iroquois, Pueblo, Sioux, 
i Apache, Ojibway and Seminole, too! 

I’ll be one and so may you, 

Idaho, Iroquois, Pueblo, Sioux! 



1. The Jumping-off Rock. 2. A Band of Indians. 































PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


215 


1. One by one the Indians steal cautiously in, crouch¬ 

ing, and shading their eyes with their hands. 

2. When all are in the circle, they jump up high, 

stretching their arms over their heads, and 
give a war-whoop. They quickly drop to the 
floor and lie flat down, with first one ear, then 
the other to the ground. 

3. While lying, with hands pressed against the ground, 

raise heads and shoulders and listen. Ear to 
the ground, then raise head again. 

4. Rise to kneeling position on one knee, and face out¬ 

ward in the circle. Pretend to adjust an arrow 
in its bow, and take aim. 

5. With another shout all jump to their feet and dance 

around in the circle, hopping first on one foot, 
and then on the other, and waving tomahawks 
in the air. 

6. Run quickly away to the river bank, jump into the 

waiting canoes, and paddle two by two down 
the stream, changing paddles to the other side 
after a few strokes. 

(Kneel on both knees, sitting on heels as in 
a canoe.) 

7. Turn and give long, loud calls, gently and quickly 

touching your open lips as you call, to make a 
trembling war whoop. 

Take deep full breaths in order to send the 
call way off into the woods. 

SUMMERTIME. 

'Nursery Exercises — 111. 

1. Summer Breeze: 

Breathe deeply and blow. 

2. Butterfly Flying: 

Run lightly about, moving the arms grace¬ 
fully up and down to imitate the flutter of 
wings, 


216 


THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


3. Pulling Up a Root: 

Reach down and pull hard, reach and pull 
as if really trying to remove a root that is in 
the way. 

4. The Swaying Tree: 

Stand with arms outstretched and gently 
sway from side to side. 

Nurse indicates the rhythm by humming 
softly a waltz tune. 

5. Crossing the Brook: 

Run a little distance and jump across a 
space marked on the ground or floor, and try 
to land on the other side so as not to wet the 
feet. 

6. Swinging Branches: 

Swing the arms at the side, forward and 
back, and as they swing forward, rise on the 
toes, then sink. 

7. Fragrance of Blossoms comes in the Window: 

Smell the sweet odor, with a long, deep 
breath. (Three or four times.) 

Nursery Exercises — IV. 

1. Giant Walk: 

Walk on tiptoe, raising the whole leg for¬ 
ward at each step, and with arms and fingers 
stretched over head. 

2. Yards of Cloth: 

With arms stretched straight forward, 
palms of hands together, spread them apart 
so that the hands are on a level with the 
shoulders, and as far to the sides as they will 
reach. Move arms forward easily, and to the 
side with more force. Measure five yards of 
cloth in this way. 

3. Walking the Car Rail: 

Place on the floor a stout stick, two inches 
thick by three wide and six or eight feet long. 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


217 


The child may need your hand when first try¬ 
ing this balance exercise. 

4. The Jack Knife: 

Try to bend forward and touch the toes 
with your finger tips. Straighten slowly and 
try again about three times—bending up like 
a knife. 

5. Jumping Jack: 

Hang on the bar, placed across your door¬ 
way, and make your legs dance up and down. 
Hang and kick ten times, then stop and rest 
your hands, and try it once more at least. 

6. The Four Winds. 

Sometimes we call this 4 ‘still running” be¬ 
cause you stand in one place while you run, 
only, for about ten counts, you face toward the 
East, then for ten toward South, then the 
West, then North, and finally East again. 

7. Bursting a Paper Bag: 

Hold the imaginary bag in one hand, 
breathe deeply and blow into it until you have 
it filled completely, then take it away from 
your mouth, holding the end tight so that the 
air will not escape, and strike it with the other 
hand hard, so that the bag will break. 

List of Toys and Playthings for Simple Play 

Occupations. 

(Easily arranged in a small yard, or nursery, porch, 

or roof garden.) 

1. Bean Bags: 

Made of strong ticking, five inches square 
and filled with a quarter of a pint of beans. 

2. Wooden Boxes or Baskets or Rings hung in the 

air into or through which the bean bags may 
be thrown. 

3. Soap Bubble Outfit. 


218 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


4. Sand Box or Pile on the floor, confined in a given 

space, by boards six or eight inches in width. 

5. Pails, shovels, etc., for use in the sand box. Lit¬ 

tle tin cooking dishes. 

6. Dolls ’ furniture, such as chairs and tables, 

strongly made, also used in the play houses 
made in the sand. 

7. A Seesaw. 

Made by placing a strong board across a 
saw horse, and fastening it securely so that it 
will not slide off, but still be movable. 

8. Low Rope Swing: 

Have a small arm chair seat, back, and 
sides for the swing, and arrange a strap or 
stick in front, to prevent falling. 

9. Slide: 

Have a smooth piece of inclined board 
down which the children can slide. It should 
be at least a yard wide, unless it has side rails 
to prevent the children from slipping off. 

10. Low Iron Rail: 

Set in the ground so that it is about two 
feet six inches high. This the children love to 
hang upon, and “keel over.” 

Note.—In this list I have included play occupations that are large 
and free in their movements, and have not intended to mention the 
small occupations which are manifold, and are used constantly in the 
kindergarten, such as paper cutting and folding, pasting, painting, 
stringing beads, building with blocks, and so forth. 

Motion Plays. 

VI. By the Sea. 

Note.—As before, the play is imaginary, and the inspiration of the 
story may come from an older person sitting by. 

1. The Salt Sea Air: 

Take three or four long, deep breaths, and 
smell the salt sea air. 

2. Skipping Stones: 

Pretend to find a few smooth flat stones, 
then throw them, one by one, first with the 


219 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 

right hand, and then with the left, and see how 
many splashes you can cause them to make. 

(One must bend to the side when throwing 
so that the stone will strike flatly and lightly 
on the surface of the water.) 

3. Wading Along the Beach: 

Step carefully along in the water until it 
reaches as high as your knees. Hold your 
clothes so that they will not drag in the water. 

4. Swimming: 

Stand with one foot in front of the other, 
reach forward with the arms, as if pushing 
through the water, at the same time sway for¬ 
ward onto that forward foot. Spread the arms 
to the side, and sway back. It may help you 
to count in this way: 

“And”—Arms are bent up in front of chest 
ready to go forward. 

“One”—Stretch the arms forward as far 
as you can, and as quickly, with 
the palms facing down. 

“Two”—Move the arms straight around to 
the side, keeping them as high as 
the shoulders and with hands 
facing backward, as if pushing 
water away from the face. 

Change feet,.and repeat; in all, four or five 
times, with each foot forward. 

5. Tag: 

Run about barefooted in the soft sand, and 
try to catch one another. 

6. Digging a Hole in the Sand: 

Try to plow with your feet in the soft sand 
just as a dog digs a hole. Ten times. 

7. Hoisting the Sails: 

Stand erect, raise your arms sideways un¬ 
til they are way up over your head, then let 
them down. Repeat four times, breathing in 


220 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

when the sails go up, and out when they come 
down. 

VII . The Fourth of July . 

1. Fair Day: 

Run to the window, look out, and up, all 
around the sky, to see if any clouds are there. 
Breathe deeply with satisfaction to know that 
the day is fair. 

2. Flag Parade: 

All march around the room or yard waving 
flags. If no real flags can be provided, wave 
one hand in the air to represent a real one. 
Sometimes use the other hand. 

3. High Stepping Horses: 

Each child plays he is riding a little horse. 
He holds the reins tight in his hands, and lifts 
his knee up high at each step, keeping time to 
a marching rhythm. 

4. Ringing the Independence Bell: 

Pull down very hard on a big, strong rope, 
that rings the bell, that tells us our country is 
free, “The Land of Liberty /’ 

5. The Band: 

Again we march. This time we have a 
drum-major, some playing fifes, some drums, 
some cymbals, a triangle or trumpet, etc. 

6. Galloping Horse: 

The Cavalry now comes galloping by. What 
splendid horses these are! 

7. Evening Fire Works: 

As we watch the skyrockets shoot up into 
the air, we try to imitate their sound, and this 
makes us take deep, deep breaths; make a 
funny sissing noise with our mouths, and a 
pop at the end. 

VIII. The Fairies 9 Revel. 

1. The Gathering of the Fairies: 

Fairies, Brownies, Nixies, Elves, are hid- 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 221 

ing everywhere about the yard, waiting for it 
to be dark enough for the moon. A little 
“fairy herald” runs about the yard, calling 
through his trumpet for all to assemble. This 
is what the ‘ 4 herald ’’ sings: 

“Heigh 0! Heigh 0! Come fairies all 
And dance upon the green! 

Come Elfin Prince and Brownie King 
And come, 0 Fairy Queen!” 




t— i-H 

—1— 

-f~ 

-' —~| 


, n f > 


1 

m 

jdA • 

f( 

V A 

JH 0 

- TTt- • 

j 1 r 

o 

V 

) Q d 

d g 


*- 0— r— 


fj 

o. 

one, two, three, bow! One, two, three, bow! 

. _I_ * 


/ u-/ 

■ 


» 


J 


■1 


w -—I- 



p- - a 


-(i 

, 


"-- 0 

~—d ' J 


w ~ 

1 

v 

Z * 


" w 



J J 

t ) 

r I 1 


O, one, two, three, bow! O, one, two, three, bow! 


2. Grand March: 

Led by the Fairy King and Queen, all step 
gracefully around the fairy ring. Two by two 
they march, each taking his partner’s hand. 
Advance three steps then bow very low to your 
partner. 

The fairy music is something like this: 

3. Brownies’Romp: 

All the Brownies play about on the green, 
jumping up and down, whirling, turning som¬ 
ersaults, and so forth. 

4. The Prank of the Nixies: 

The Nixies steal away, then come back to 
the green hopping on hands and feet, pretend¬ 
ing that they are rabbits, to frighten the fairies 
away. 

5. The Fairies’ Triumph: 

This is what the fairies do to drive the 
Nixies back: they steal towards them, looking 
right in their eyes, with their arms raised out 
like wings, and as they walk in a crouching 
way, they bend from side to side. 


































THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


000 

6. Roundel for All: 

Children all join hands in the fairy circle. 

a. First they all bow to the center. 

b. Turn and bow to their partners. 

c. Dance all the way around in a ring. 

d. Dance forward, all toward the center. 

e. Dance back, to the larger ring. 

f. Circle the other way (from c). 

7. Homeward Flight: 

With slowly waving wings, all leave the 
circle, and fly away home. They are out of 
breath after their lively dance, and must 
breathe very deeply in order “to catch” it 
again. 

IX . The Circus. 

1. The Tall Man: 

Children walk about on tip toe, with their 
arms stretched high over head. 

2. Trained Dogs: 

Hop about on two feet, with knees slightly 
bent, and hands hanging in front of the chest, 
as if they were puppies’ paws. Hop up onto 
a little box, and down. 

3. Trapeze Man: 

Have a little trapeze hung in the yard, just 
out of the children’s reach. They hang upon 
it, and swing, and sometimes with an older per¬ 
son’s help they can climb up and sit on the bar. 

4. Tight-Rope Walker: 

We may have just a play rope, and the 
children just play walking it, their arms are 
held out to the side, to help keep the balance, 
and they move each foot carefully along as if 
really on a rope. 

5. The Strong Man: 

This man swings a heavy hammer down 
upon a post, and drives it far into the ground. 
(Five times.) 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


223 


6. The Jumpers: 

If there could be a pile of sand, sawdust, 
hay or something soft, all might run and jump 
in many different ways, landing in the hay. 

7. Circus Balloon: 

On the way home we buy toy balloons, and 
blow them up for ourselves. 

Breathe and blow several times. 

X. On Board an Ocean Steamer . 

1. Waving Good-bye: 

Children walk along the deck waving hand¬ 
kerchiefs to friends on the shore. 

2. The “Look-Out”: 

This is the man who climbs a ladder of 
rope to a very high platform where he stays a 
long time to look out for other ships. It would 
be good to have a small ladder for this play. 

3. Sailors’Hornpipe: 

The sailor boy folds his arms in front of 
him and skips about on the deck to a tune your 
nurse may know. He runs along three steps, 
then gives a little kick forward; runs again, 
and kicks, and so on. 

4. Scrubbing the Deck: 

With stout long-handled brooms we work 
hard as sailors trying to make the deck white 
and clean. 

5. The Rolling Sea: 

This makes the ship toss about, and when 
we walk we sway from side to side, putting 
our hands out to help us keep our balance. 

6. Running Races: 

Two by two, we take a long run and return, 
to see who can reach the cabin first. 

7. Sunset: 

One last look at the sea before going to bed. 
Stand at the rail, gaze out over the water to¬ 
ward the west, and just breathe in the beauty. 


224 


THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


AUTUMN. 

'Nursery Exercises — V. 

1. Whistling Wind: 

Breathe in deeply and blow slowly making 
whistling and moaning sound. (Four times.) 

2. Whirling Leaves: 

Children flit about the room, waving their 
arms in the air as they turn. 

3. Throwing Leaves: 

Gather up bundles of leaves in both arms, 
and throw them at one another, as in a pillow 
fight. 

4. Chopping Down a Tree: 

Stand with feet apart, and pretend to swing 
a heavy axe from high over the head, so that 
it will strike near the base of the tree. 

5. Running Jump Over a Pile of Leaves: 

Roll up a rug on the floor to represent 
leaves. Children run a little distance and try 
to go over the top without touching it. 

6. Scuffing through the Leaves: 

Walking along under a tree where the 
leaves have fallen, scuffing your feet to hear 
the rustle of the leaves. 

7. Blowing the Feathery Seed: 

Try to keep the bit of down floating in the 
air, by breathing deeply, then blowing under 
it, as it falls. 

Nursery Exercises — VI. 

1. Ball Tossing: 

If real rubber balls can be provided it is 
much more fun. 

a. Toss up and catch. 

b. Bounce and catch. 

Ten times each. 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


225 


2. Foot Trap: 

Children stand with heels together and toes 
apart. Suddenly they snap the toes together, 
apart, together, etc. (Ten counts.) 

3. The Swing: 

Stand with one foot in front of the other. 
Starting with the hands in front of the chest, 
push forward and upward as if pushing a 
swing hoard, and at the same time sway for¬ 
ward. When the arms pull back to the chest, 
sway back onto the other foot. Swing four 
times, then change feet. 

4. Walking the Fence Rail: 

Use the balancing beam again, and try to 
walk backward this time, as well as forward. 

5. A Fly on its Back: 

Lie on the bed on your back, with your 
feet kicking up in the air. Try to roll over 
a little kicking, so that you can easily get up 
on your hands and knees. 

6. “The Jumping-off Place”: 

Climb up onto a low stool or box that you 
are allowed to stand on. Jump down, putting 
one foot out over the edge before you jump, 
and landing very softly on the floor. 

7. The Bellows: 

Raise your two arms out at the side, and 
at the same time breathe in deeply. Then as 
you lower these two handles of the bellows, 
you blow through your lips making them round 
and small. 


Motion Plays. 

XI. Harvest Home. 

1. March of the Reapers: 

Children may start from different rooms or 
from different parts of the same room, march 
into a ring, or, if only a few children, foomi a 


VOL. 1—15 


26 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


line, each one placing a hand on the shoulder 
of the child in front. In the other hand pre¬ 
tend to be carrying a branch of autumn leaves, 
which can be waved gaily in the air. Sing to 
the tune of “Mulberry Bush”: 

0! Here we come to our Harvest Home 
Harvest Home, Harvest Home! 

Here we come to our Harvest Home, 

This gay October evening! 

We’ve worked in the field till our work is done, 

Work is done, work is done! 

We’ve worked in the field till our work is done, 

This gay October evening! 

And now we’ll dance and sing a song 
Sing a song, sing a song, 

Now we’ll dance and sing a song, 

This gay October evening! 

2. Caps in the Air: 

All are so glad it is “Harvest Home,” the 
crops were large and they will live well over 
the winter; in their joy they toss their caps in 
the air to see which one will go highest. 

3. Dancing on the Green: 

Two by two, if we have many reapers. 
Dance around the circle, taking your partner’s 
hand. The boys put their other hand on their 
hips, and the girls hold their skirts daintily 
with the fingers. 

4. Pitching Hay: 

Stoop down, gather an armful of hay, and 
play throwing it up on a wagon. Eight arm¬ 
fuls we may throw. 

5. Treading the Grain: 

Step about the room lifting the knees high 
at every step. 

6. Harvest Tag Game: 

All form a ring. One child is “it” and 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 227 

skips inside the circle. He gently touches 
some player as he passes; this child follows 
him, doing just as he does. He may skip, run, 
hop on one foot, walk backward, fly, walk on 
his heels, walk in a “ squatting ” position, etc. 
If the first player is caught before he reaches 
his place, the catcher becomes leader the next 
time. 

7. Calling the Cows: 

Children with their hands forming a 
trumpet, call clearly and long for the cows to 
come home. 

“Co’boss! Co’boss! Co’boss!” 

Breathe deeply before you call. 

XII. The City’s Helpers. 

1. The Policeman: 

He walks around the town, tall and 
straight, and strong. Breathe, then blow the 
policeman’s whistle. 

2. The Fireman: 

He climbs the ladder which stands against 
the wall, then slides down it backward and 
sitting astride. Use the same strong little lad¬ 
der as in previous plays. (Five times.) 

3. The Street Cleaner: 

He brushes and shovels, and keeps our 
streets as clean as he can. 

Sweep with ten strokes of a broom and 
shovel, five times. 

4. The Messenger Boy: 

He runs very quickly, delivering messages 
all over the city. Run about the rooms several 
times, then stop at the telegraph office. 

5. The Man Who Rings the Church Bell: 

Down he pulls with both hands on the 
strong bell rope. He reaches high, and pulls 
again. Five times he does it with right hand 


228 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

leading, and five times with the left hand 
leading. 

6. The Mounted Policeman: 

The horse who takes him all about, walks 
and gallops, and canters, and shakes his head, 
and dances on his hind legs, and is a very 
beautiful animal. 

7. The Band Master: 

He plays a trumpet, and fills his lungs very 
full before he blows. 

“Toot! toot! To-oot!” 

XIII. Nutting Time. 

1. The Walk through the Woods: 

As we go up hill and down, we look up high 
very often to see if we have found nuts on the 
tree. When we tip our heads back to look up, 
we breathe deeply every time. 

2. Knocking Off the Nuts: 

At last we find many trees heavily laden! 
We gather sticks and stones to throw up into 
the branches, so as to knock down the nuts. 

3. Walking the Stone Wall: 

Here we have to go carefully, so that we 
will not slip off. We follow along on the wall 
to some trees with low branches which we can 
reach to shake off the nuts. 

4. Gathering the Nuts in Our Sacks: 

Now we have to kneel, or sit on the ground, 
or bend way over and put the nuts by the 
handfuls into the bags. Sometimes we fill our 
pockets too. 

5. L The Squirrel: 

Suddenly we spy a little squirrel. He fills 
his pouching cheeks with nuts and scampers 
off to his hole. We follow the little fellow, 
running as fast as we can, dodging in and out 
among the rocks and trees. 



1. The Jack-knife. 2. The Crows 









PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


229 


6. The Flock of Crows: 

We startle a number of the great black 
birds and they fly up from a tree with a 
mighty flapping of wings. Run softly about 
the room, waving the arms as you run, playing 
you are the crows. 

7. Odor of the Pines: 

On the way home we pass through a grove 
of pine trees. How good they smell! Take as 
many as five very deep breaths, breathing 
through the nose. 

XIV . A Football Game, 

1. Ride to the Grounds: 

Perhaps we have a big brother who is to 
play in the game, and we are allowed to see it. 
We jump into the automobile with our flags 
in our hands, and we wave them as we ride 
along to the football field. It is fun to make an 
automobile out of several chairs. Some one 
must be the chauffeur. 

2. The Grand Stand: 

We can play that our own flight of stairs 
leads to the grand stand. We give up our tick¬ 
ets at the foot of the stairs, then climb to the top. 

3. The Players Appear: 

How the people cheer! We feel happy, too, 
so we dance up and down and clap our hands 
with the rest. Ten times at least, we do it. 

4. The Game Begins: 

We pretend in this way: We get down on 
one knee, or on both, or we stand and stoop 
way over. There we listen until some one 
calls out the signal number. Soon we hear it, 
jump to our feet and dash away with the ball 
that has been passed just at that moment. 

5. Kicking a Goal: 

This is rather hard to do. If we are out of 
doors, perhaps we may try with a real ball, but 


230 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


if not, just pretend to kick. Use first one foot 
and then the other. 

6. A Long Run: 

It looks like our brother or his friend who 
catches the ball, after a good kick-off, and runs 
way along almost the length of the field. We 
run in the room or out of doors, just as he did, 
with a football tucked under our arm. 

7. End of the Game: 

The score was very close, but our brother’s 
team won. We are very glad of that, and walk 
quickly out to the automobile so that we may 
hurry home and tell the news. We have had 
such a good time, and have to breathe with a 
great sigh, we are so happy. This we do about 
four times, after our quick walk around the 
room. 

WINTER. 

Nursery Exercises — VII. 

1. Frosty Morning: 

We waken and find it very cold in our room. 
We breathe while lying in bed to see if we can 
“see our breath.” (Five times.) 

2. “Goosie-Goosie Gander”: 

“Goosie-goosie Gander, 

Whither shall I wander, 

Upstairs and downstairs, 

In my lady’s chamber!” 

(Let us go down the flight of stairs and up 
again in a lively way, but not really running.) 

3. Punching Bag: 

Perhaps we have a punching bag in our 
room; if not, we can make one by putting a 
large rubber ball or leather one in a bag and 
hanging it up in our doorway. Or we may just 
play we are hitting one. We hit with the back 
of one closed hand, and then the other, ten 
times, then rest, and ten times again. 


» 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


231 


4. Warming the Toes: 

If they are cold, we can soon make them 
warm by rising up on our toes, then sinking, 
rising again, then sinking. 

Ten times do this, with the body quite 
straight. 

5. Swinging on the Trapeze: 

This is the same bar that we have used be¬ 
fore, only it should be low enough for us to 
reach it. Run and swing forward, pushing 
your feet out far; then touch the floor as you 
swing back, and kick the feet up backward. 
Swing four or five times each way, then rest. 

6. Hey! Diddle, Diddle: 

“Hey! diddle, diddle! 

The cat’s in the fiddle, 

The cow jumped over the moon! 

The little dog laughed to see such sport, 

And the dish ran away with the spoon!” 

Perhaps you can make a large round moon 
out of pasteboard, about the size of the largest 
plate you have. We run and jump over it as 
someone holds it upright on the floor. When 
two of us have jumped we join hands and run 
around together, playing we are the dish and 
the spoon. 

7. The Winter Wind: 

We hear it blowing outside so hard. We 
breathe several times deeply and blow. 

Nursery Exercises — VIII. 

1. “Hippity-hop”: 

“Hippity-hop to the barber shop, 

To buy a stick of candy! 

One for you and one for me 
And one for Jack-a-dandy!” 

Skip around the room keeping time to the 
rhythm of the verse. 


232 


THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


2. Swinging Doors to the Nursery: 

Children stand with feet apart, and arms 
raised out at the side, with elbows bent up 
close so that the palms of the hands face down, 
and the thumb side of the hand touches the 
chest. These arms are the closed doors. Open 
them by straightening the arms, and stretch¬ 
ing the hands to the side as far as they will 
reach. Close the doors by bending up again. 
Open and close ten times. (Elbows should be 
as high as the shoulders all the time.) 

3. ‘‘Rooster March”: 

We walk slowly around the room, bending 
the knee up, and stretching the foot far for¬ 
ward before stepping on to it. All the time 
we carry our heads up and our chests forward 
like a rooster. Perhaps this count will help. 

4 4 Roost-lift knee. 

er” — straighten leg forward. 

“step”!— step over onto this leading foot. 

Arms should be akimbo, playing that they 
are wings. 

4. Rabbits: 

Hop about the room on “all fours,” stop¬ 
ping every now and then to sit up and look and 
listen. 

5. Climbing Monkeys: 

Try to have a large round pole about three 
inches thick extending from floor to ceiling. 
Little monkeys could climb this easily, and if 
you keep trying, I am sure you can. 

6. Greyhounds, the Dogs that Leap: 

Place a pillow on the floor and see if all 
can jump over it. Then place another on the 
first one, or one in front of it, for a long jump. 
Try until we have each taken about five jumps. 

7. Dancing Bear: 

When a trained bear dances, with the man 
who owns him holding one end of the rope tied 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


233 


around the bear’s neck, he stands on his hind 
legs with his forepaws bent up in front of him, 
and he moves sideways with a clumsy motion, 
sliding one foot after the other, and wagging 
his head from side to side. 

Motion Plays. 

XV. The First Snow Storm . 

1. The Whirling Snow Flakes: 

Children dance about on their tiptoes and 
finally sink down on the floor, as if making a 
blanket over it. 

2. Snowballs: 

Make a good supply, then throw them at a 
big tree that we play stands out in the yard. 
Throw with right hand and with left. Five 
trials with each hand. 

3. Indian Trail. 

One child walks at the head of the little 
company of Indians, making a path for the 
others. Each one that follows must try to 
walk exactly in the steps of the leader. 

4. Shoveling Path: 

Make a splendid wide path. Much snow 
has fallen in the night. Shovel and throw it 
up on a little bank at the side. 

5. The Snow-Plow Horses: 

Splendid strong ones they are, just like 
“fire horses.” The snow is so deep they have 
to lift their feet very high in order to step. 

6. Fox and Geese: 

One child is the fox and the rest are the 
geese. The fox tries to catch a goose, and if 
lie does, that goose becomes the fox. 

7. Warming Our Fingers: 

Hold your fingers up to your mouth, then 
take a deep, deep breath, and blow upon them 
softly, letting them feel the warm air from 
your mouth. Five times breathe and blow. 


234 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


XVI. Santa Claus’ Visit. 

TIME: Christmas Eve, and Morning of Christmas Day. 

CHARACTERS. 

Santa Claus. Two Boys. 

Reindeer. Two Girls. 

1. Arrival of Santa: 

Children are fast asleep. The bells of the 
sleigh can be heard (jingle bells outside the 
room) and the patter of the reindeer’s feet. 
Santa may drive three or four reindeer to the 
very door. Steal into the room, see that the 
children are sleeping, and at once begin to 
empty his pack. When a Christmas tree is set 
in place, the stockings filled, and toys placed 
near the children’s beds, Santa departs with 
his reindeer at full gallop. 

2. Morning: 

The boys and girls are so sleepy! They 
stretch and yawn, when someone remembers 
it is Christmas, and jumping up shouts 
“Merry Christmas!” Turn on the lights. 

3. The Christmas Tree: 

When one of the boys turns on the light, it 
lights, at the same time, many tiny little lamps 
all over a beautiful tree. The children clap 
their hands and dance for joy. 

(The reindeer have become boys and girls 
again and have come in to join in the fun, as 
well as Santa Claus himself.) 

They join hands in a ring around the tree, 
singing to the tune of “Yankee Doodle”: 

“A Merry Christmas to you all 
And thanks to dear old “Santy”. 

We’ll dance and sing so merrily 
For there are toys a-plenty.” 

Chorus: Santa Claus we greet you now. 

You are so round and jolly. 

The Children’s friend you are indeed. 

For Christmas fun and folly! 

4. Christmas Bells: 

Now the bells are heard ringing in the 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


235 


church towers,—ringing out their Christmas 
carols. Let us play we, too, are ringing the 
chimes. Up with the hands and pull down on 
the bell ropes. 

5. “Dollies”: 

Beautiful dolls they are which we find on 
the Christmas Tree! We take them in our 
arms, and swing from side to side gently, put¬ 
ting them to sleep. Sing the lullaby, “Baby’s 
Boat, the Silver Moon. ’’ 

6. Hobby Horses: 

These are what children like to ride. A 
stick, a broom, or a cane may be the “hobby¬ 
horse” and you sit astride, holding one end 
in front of you, and letting the other drag be¬ 
hind you. Ride about the house, where you 
can, several times. Then drive the horses to 
the stable. 

7. Christmas Orchestra: 

The players pretend to use trumpets, 
harmonicas, whistles, triangles, drums, etc. 
Surely there must be a leader. He stands on 
a box and beats the time well. 

The little people who blow on their instru¬ 
ments must take deep breaths, and it is good 
for all to do so. 

XVII. The Lumber Camp. 

1. Jack Frost in the Woods: 

The lumber camp is in the woods, where 
men go to cut big trees that we use in building 
our houses, or whatever is made of wood. We 
drive a long way into the country before we 
come to the camp. We aren’t afraid Jack 
Frost will nip our noses, and we breathe defi¬ 
ance at him, taking long, deep breaths of the 
fresh, frosty air. 

2. Sawing a Log: 

Take the right hand of a playmate in our 


236 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

right hand, and move it back and forth with a 
good deal of strength as if you were really 
sawing a log. Ten times with right hands, 
then ten times with the left. 

3. Walking a Log: 

A great tree has been felled and stripped 
of its branches. We are allowed to walk along 
on top of it, as it lies on the ground,—which 
we do very carefully, holding our arms out to 
help us keep our balance. 

4. Felling a Tree: 

We see the men do it and men we pretend 
that we are doing it, too. We swing the heavy 
axes high, and try always to hit the trunk of 
the tree in the same place, when we chop it. 
Five times with axe on right and five times 
with it on left side. 

5. The Horses that Drag the Logs: 

These horses work very hard, because they 
have to draw the logs over such rough ground. 
The snow makes the logs slide along a little 
more easily. Two or three children can play 
they are horses, and the rest may make a long, 
long log by standing one behind the other and 
placing their hands on the shoulders of the 
one in front. The driver has a rope, and the 
horses pull on this. “The log” must not make 
itself too heavy; just walk along, holding back 
a little. If we can play out of doors we could 
have a sled upon which to drag the logs. 

6. Jumping to Get Warm: 

We find it rather cold in the woods. In or¬ 
der to get warm, we run in one place (still run¬ 
ning it is called), lifting our knees in front of 
us at each step, and swinging our arms with 
vim. 

7. The Camp Fire: 

From off in the woods we smell the smoke 
of another camp fire. We breathe in to assure 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


237 


ourselves that we really smell it, and do this 
several times. By and by the men light a camp 
fire for us that we may see it before we go. 

XVIII. Moivgli in the Jungle. 

1. Mowgli, the Boy: 

He was a little boy who lived in the wild 
woods with the animals. A kind mother-wolf 
cared for him when he was a baby as if he had 
been one of her cubs. Mowgli loved the sweet¬ 
smelling woods. In the morning he would 
stand up on a little hillock, so that he might 
feel tall, and he breathed in, many times, the 
fresh air of the jungle. 

2. The Mossy Carpet: 

Here the little boy tumbled and rolled 
about, turning somersaults, and rolling over 
and over. 

3. Tree Climbing: 

The ‘‘monkey people” who are happy and 
free and live in the trees’; taught Mowgli to 
climb. Use the pole or rope hanging from the 
ceiling in the nursery. 

4. Following the Brook: 

Mowgli loved to wade in the brook, or go as 
far as he could, stepping from stone to stone. 
Play you are like Mowgli, and step very care¬ 
fully so as not to fall in the brook. Go all 
around the room, or up and down the hall. 

5. Swimming the Stream: 

“Gray Brother” was one of the “Mother 
Wolf’s” little cubs and grew up with Mowgli. 
He taught Mowgli to swim, to dive, to swim 
under water. This you may try on the floor or 
on a bed, or lying across a stool. 

6. Fleet Running: 

A very swift runner was “Gray Brother.” 
He often would take Mowgli on a chase, show¬ 
ing him how to avoid the roots and stones, to 
leap with long, free strides. 


238 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


See if you can do this! Run for a half 
a minute, rest, and run again. 

7. The Walk Home: 

After the run, Mowgli and “Gray Brother” 
would walk slowly back to the cave where they 
lived. They breathed the soft woods ’ wind as 
they went, keeping a sharp lookout for any of 
the Jungle People who might be lurking near. 

XX. Winter Sports. 

1. A Sleighride: 

If we are out of doors we can tie our sleds 
together and really have a ride. Indoors we 
make a great sleigh with chairs, have other 
chairs for horses, and strings for reins. Some¬ 
one carries bells and jingles them all the way, 
while we sing: 

Jingle bells, jingle bells, 

Jingle all the way! 

Oh! What fun it is to ride 
In a one-horse open sleigh! 

2. The Skating Pond: 

The ride to the pond over, we put on our 
skates, and enjoy gliding over the smooth ice 
for a little time. It is easy to pretend you are 
skating. Take long sliding steps, and some¬ 
times we may skate with a partner. 

3. A Drink of Water: 

We do not like to take off our skates, so we 
try to walk with them on, and go up the board 
walk to the little wooden house where drinking 
water may be had. It is quite difficult to walk 
on land with skates on your feet. Go once 
around the room at least. 

4. Building a Snow Fort: 

Some of us shovel snow into a round ring, 
while others pretend to roll large snow balls, 
until they look like great round stones, and 
will help to build the wall. 


PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


239 


5. The Snow-Ball Battle: 

Children in the fort arrange themselves be¬ 
hind a row of chairs, while those outside stand 
some distance away, and pretend to storm the 
fort with snow balls. Out of doors we may 
make a real fort. After a little time we change 
sides, giving the others an opportunity to play 
in the fort. 

6. Destruction of the Fort: 

All rush at the fort, jump into the pile of 
snow; climb up on it, and jump off, and so on. 
In the house we must use an old mattress if we 
have one, and a strong box upon which we may 
stand. 

7. Melting the Snow with Our Breath: 

We have large posts in the fence around 
our house, and nearly all winter they are cov¬ 
ered with snow. If we take deep breaths and 
then blow softly on the snow, we can melt little 
holes in it, and make jack-o ’-lantern faces. 
Try it and see; five times breathe deeply and 
blow. 

MUSIC IN PLAY. 

Because of the delight small children take in activ¬ 
ity with music, and especially if there is a dramatic 
or descriptive element noticeable, as in Singing or 
Folk Games and Song Plays, we append a selected list 
of such plays with the names of the books where they 
may be found. Some of the Folk Games and Dances 
are very old, and the games often appear in slightly 
different forms in several countries. In many in¬ 
stances they are based upon incidents in the real life 
of adults in some historic day. 

Soxg Plays. 

1. “How do you do, My Partner?” 

2. “The Farmer in the T)ell.’ ? 

3. “The Muffin Man.” 

4. “Ten Little Indians.’’ 


240 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


5. “Twining the Wreathe.’’ 

Singing Folk Games. 

1. “Here we go Round the Mulberry Bush.” 

2. “London Bridge.” 

3. “Go Round and Round the Village.” 

4. “Oats, Peas, Beans, and Barley Grow.” 

5. “Looby Loo,” or “The Shaker Song.” 

Singing Games and Folk Dances. 

1. “Charlie Over the Water.” 

2. “Drop the Handkerchief,” or “Itisket, 

Itasket.” 

3. “The Jolly Miller.” 

4. “Left, Right, Left, Right, Here We Go.” 

5. “German Klapp Dance.” 

The books in which these plays and games may be 
found are as follows: Games and Plays of American 
Children , by William Wells Newell; Popvlar Folk 
Games and Dances, and Children’s Old and New Sing¬ 
ing Games, by Mari R. Hofer; Graded; Games and 
Rhythmic Exercises , by Marion Bromley Newton; 
The Folk Dance Book, by C. Ward Crampton. 

Singing Games. 

I. Carrier Pigeon .* 

Up with wings flew little pigeon, 

To the woods and sang so fair, 

“Letter from your mamma truly 
In my little bill I bear.” 

"With their wings fly all the pigeons 
Far away and gaily coo, 

“None so light and free as I am 
And no hawk can catch me, too.” 

One of the players runs lightly around singing the 
first stanza, and imitates with his arms the flap of a 
bird’s wings. At the words “Letter from your 
Mamma,” he (she) kneels in front of one of the oth¬ 
ers, who “makes believe” take a letter from the 


translated from the Swedish by Marion B. Newton. 



PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


241 


‘‘pigeonV’ bill. At the words 4 ‘all the pigeons,’’ all 
the players run “flying” after the first and sing the 
song to the end. The one before whom the former 
“pigeon” knelt, then begins the game. 


- 

m 




. s 

— 1 — 



. f i J 




N 1 ’ 




.1 0 9 

* H H j- 

,- “N—N 


r J 


• . 

z 

* 9 9 

m — “1 “1 I 

L *— 0 — 0 - 0 - 

[#— 0 

—#—— 



1. Up with wings flew lit-tie pig-eon, To the woods and sang so fair; 

2. With their wings fly all the pig-eons, Far a-way and gai-lycoo; 


— 

- £± 

f ' 0^* 


-N—fe 


» 


-- J 

J-fc,—P 

: * jtr±i 




“ Let-ter from your mamma tru - ly In my lit - tie bill I bear.” 
“None so light and free as I am. And no hawk can catch me, tool” 

II. “I Took Me Down to Ocean Strand.”* 

I took me clown to ocean strand, to ocean strand. 

And there I met a little old man with stick in hand. 

He greeted me so, he greeted me so! 

And then he asked me from where I had come. 

Yes, I had come from Hoppity-land. 

(All) From Hoppity-land, from Hoppity-land, 

And hop he must if hop he can, 

Or he has not come from Hoppity-land. 

2d 

(All) From Clappity-land, from Clappity-land, 

And clap he must if clap he can, 

Or he has not come from Clappity-land. 

3d 

(All) From Laughity-land, from Laughity-land, 

And laugh he must if laugh he can, 

Or he has not come from Laughity-land! 

One of the players walks around on the floor with 
a stick in his hand, and sings the above. At the words, 
“He greeted me so,” he bows very low. When he has 
sung the words, “Yes, I have come from Hoppity- 
(Clappity-, Laughity-) land,” and has made known 
the activity, all start up, join in the song, and do 
the same exercise (hopping, clapping hands, danc¬ 
ing, courtesying, sneezing and so forth.) 

^Translated from the Swedish by Marion B. Newton. 


Vol. 1—16 










































242 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

HOPPITY-LAND. 


rf-fr* - 

s s 

N k 

N 

r-K 




r Sr 

Zj ^ 


p J 


N* ^ 

/TTY a - 

"J . m J S 

~A • 9 . 

3 *r 

73 * 


•*> ' IS 

VTT # N 

-W- # • ~N^- 

w ~ rv 

V -V 


11< 

do! 

9 

i me down to 

3-cean stra 

md, t 

0 

o-cean stra 

me 

9 

1. And 



-^-■ - 


- m - 


- 




N* *1 V 

fK ,1 N 


. » d- 


• * ; 




0 2 


' ft 

V\i7 Hb f\ 






U * 0 

» i 


9 

9 


m 

. . i 

> 

» 


[£-/• if /u +* 










SZs - \ - 


-p- 


- f 

W 


- p 


p-— 



—-4-— 


-i- 


-* 

-h 


fcrrd 



By permission of Fr. Skoglund, Stockholm. 





















































































































































































































PHYSICAL EXERCISES, ETC. 


243 


4 




I: 


come. 

come. 

come. 


A 


All. 




—i— 


Yes, I had come in from Hop - pi - ty - land, from 

Yes, I had come in from Skip - pi - ty - land, from 

Yes, I had come in from Laugh - i - ty - land, from 



f r r~\ 

^ 1 




L, 



* * * 0 

H —- ax 

J S ° 


ty 




T 

B 








-t= 



n * ^ e-.jv 

~m -k- P - P~ 

— v— 

-V-V--Nr- 


—--— 0 - - ^- 


— P- 

- 

-p-p-p— 

m - m - m - 

t> 

-E- 

Hop - pi - ty - land, fron 
Skip - pi - ty - land, fror 
Laugh-i - ty - land, fror 

9~ft—■” , g; i Z5—|"^t -i 

a Hop-pi- ty- land, and 
n Skip-pi- ty- land, and 
n Laugn-i-ty- land, and 

rF^rTl- 

hop he must if 
skip he must if 
laugh he must if 


, - -j -J - 4 


—i- 

-J - 

_j-j-—j- 

jb zd —-—I 



—a - 81 - 


l_^- 

~0~ 


L 


- 0 - 

rP - ? - 

r-0 - 

- 0 - 

'm 

;- f - - -F--- 

X -—0 -1 —0 

■4- 

0 -1- 0 -- 

i- — .L—J"'" 


-1- 

H- 

-i=£— 


4 


* 


s 




at 


£ 




i 


hop he can or 
skip he can or 
laugh he can or 


he has not come in from Hop-pi-ty-land. 
he has not come in from Skip- pi - ty- land, 
he has not come in from Laugh-i- ty- land. 



mmm- 



1=33 










































































































































































244 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


111. Bees* 

A large ring (=bee-hive); players hand in hand. 
One couple make a doorway by holding up their 
clasped hands (= hive’s entrance). Within the hive 
are a few children (=bees), one of whom is the 
queen of the swarm. Out in front of the hive at a 
little distance from one another are a few children 
who represent flowers. 



2-i+TT -4-1-f- 


=q=—— 



4 


0 0 u 

-1- 

--—#— 0 - 

-#- 0 

- J 



Out we fly with wing so fleet, Drink the flowers’ nec-tar sweet; 



1 

1 

J 

/ 1 1 M - - 1 

1 II 


” * 4P ^ 

^ J | ^ ... J 1 I 

ft 

y ft -"0 0$- 

m * J I 

V 

0 0 L - 



Nev-erwea-ry in our work, Time we use and nev - er shirk. 

The players in the ring carry out the song. At 1 
all the bees, with the exception of the queen, fly hum¬ 
ming out of the hive and swarm around among the 
flowers after honey. With arms and hands out¬ 
stretched they carry out lightly the motion of flying. 

Every day in summer time 
We gather wax and honey prime. 

And in winter’s storm and strife 
Dwell we safely in our hive. 

At 2 the bees hurry into the hive and form a ring 
around the queen. 

We have built our dwelling strong 
Round our little queen’s high throne; 

Danger can not reach her hand 
When we watch and faithful stand. 

During this verse the bees circle around the queen. 

Dp the hill and down the hill 
Flower meadows echo still. 

With our zeal and happy buzz, 

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz,buzz, buzz! 


^Translated from the Swedish by Marion B, Newton, 





























































GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


245 


At 1 , the bees fly again out to the flower meadow. 
When the word “buzz” is sung for the last time, all 
the bees should be gathered around the queen. Each 
time the game is played, the bees change places with 
some of the players, who before stood still, and they 
become flowers or something similar. 


Games for Amusement. 

I. GAMES THAT TWO CAN PLAY. 

THE MILL. 

Materials.—A home-made board; twelve kernels of red field corn; 

twelve kernels of yellow field corn. 

winter evenings and rainy afternoons in the 
ML farm houses of northern New Jersey grand- 
mothers have taught this game to their little 
grandchildren as long as the oldest of us can remember. 
It is played on a home-made board with kernels of 

red and yellow corn. Children 
in the country will be able to 
make their own board, copying 
Fig. 1 and collect the red and 
yellow corn for the counters 
while city children, who can 
not get the natural counters, 
will be able to use large red 
and yellow beads such as are 
found in round wooden boxes 
at kindergarten supply stores, 
or they can make counters of cardboard to imitate 
grains of corn. Though the game is simple enough 
to be played by young children, there are such 
opportunities for play in it that older children and 
even grown up children will find it absorbing. It is 
a game for two and is played with twenty-four pieces, 
each player having twelve of a color. The play begins 



F 1C. I 

















246 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


with the placing of the pieces on the board, which is 
done as follows: One player puts a corn on the cross¬ 
ing of two lines, anywhere he chooses. The next player 
also places one on a crossing. The first player puts 
another where it will make two of his pieces in a row, 
the object of the game being for a player to get three 
pieces in a row—the rows running in any direction. 
Of course, the next move of Player No. 2 will be to put a 
counter where it will block his opponent’s plan of get¬ 
ting three in a row. When one succeeds in getting 
three pieces in a row, he is entitled to take a counter 
belonging to the other player, and that piece remains 
out of play for the rest of the game. When a player 
has but three pieces left he can jump in any direction 
or, in other words, place his counter wherever he 
chooses, without regard to lines or spaces. He is, how¬ 
ever, in a dangerous position, for if one of his counters 
is taken by his opponent, leaving him but two, it means 
defeat. When both players are reduced to three pieces 
and can skip in any direction there must be lively work 
and no careless plays or the game is lost. 

BEADS IN THE HOLE. 

Materials.—Two boxes of large glass beads such as are used in 

kindergarten. 

In Holland, when little Gretel goes to spend the 
afternoon with her friend, Neltje, they will be apt to 
play this fascinating game with beads. Each has a 
little home-made bag or sack of beads treasured for 
their colors. One of the quaint little maidens scoops 
a hole in the earth about the size and depth of a tea¬ 
cup. At six feet away a line is drawn and the surface 
of the ground between is smoothed and freed from 
pebbles and other obstructions. Now the game begins. 
One of the girls rolls a bead from the line, aiming to 
have it fall into the cup shaped hole. She then sends 
a second bead towards the same goal. The other 
player follows in turn with two of her beads. It is 


GAMES FOE AMUSEMENT. 


247 


quite unlikely that either of the players’ beads will 
reach the hole in one play and the player whose turn 
it now is may aim at the hole with the bead nearest 
it, whether it belongs to her or her opponent. This 
she does with a different action. She crooks her 
right forefinger and starts the bead with a push given 
with the left side of the forefinger. If, as is probable, 
she sends the bead into the hole she may have another 
turn and tries to send the bead that is next nearest to 
the hole into it. As many beads as she can roll into 
the hole become her property, but if she fails once the 
turn passes to the other player. Much coveted beads 
often change owners in this way. When all four beads 
have been sent into the hole the game starts again in 
the same way. 

DUTCH HOP SCOTCH. 

Materials.—Two wooden blocks about 3x3x1 inches. 

Another game beloved of little Dutch girls is an 
elaborate form of Hop Scotch. Each child has her 

little wooden block, 3x3x1 inches. 
These are often beautifully carved by 
devoted fathers or older brothers. 
The game reminds one of Jackstones 
in that it starts very simply, but step 
by step becomes more and more diffi¬ 
cult. To begin it, a rectangle about 
four by eight feet is drawn roughly 
on the earth and marked off, as in 
Fig. 2, into eight divisions. The num- 
. bers are not made in the original, but 
are given here to show the course each 
block must take. The player who be¬ 
gins the game throws her block into 
into the square nearest her on the right (No. 1). 
She then hops on one foot, kicking the block from 
square to square; up on the right hand side and 
back on the left, taking care not to let it fall on a 


5 

4 

s. 

6 

3 

7 

1 

8 

J 


FIG.2 








248 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


line, as in that case the turn passes to her oppo¬ 
nent. On the fifth square the player may rest. When 
she has sent the block all the way round the course 
the next play is to go round the course kicking the 
block as before except that it has first been thrown 
into the second division. The next round the 
block must he thrown into the third division and the 
play started there, the next time into the fourth and 
so on, hut if at any time it falls on a line the turn 
immediately passes to the opposing player. Having 
finished this set of figures a more difficult play is to 
go over the same set, but without letting the block or 
one’s foot rest on a line, on penalty of losing one’s 
turn. The next figure is to throw one’s block into the 
fourth division while one’s eyes are closed and kick 
it from there out of the rectangle altogether, still with 
closed eyes. The next feat is to go round the rectangle 
as in the first figure, but with eyes closed; the next 
to do the second figure with eyes closed, and so on, 
doing each figure, as it was done with the eyes open, 
with closed eyes. Needless to say, the little Hollanders 
become very agile where this game is played and 
doubtless the poise gained in skating helps them to 
become skilful at it. 

WHEELBARROW RACE. 

Wheelbarrow races over the lawn are great fun for 
little boys. A grassy course is best, for short legs 
may grow unsteady toward the end of the race and a 
fall on the turf is not a serious matter. If father has 
been cutting the grass the wheelbarrow may be loaded 
with fresh green piles for one’s pet rabbits or in the 
autumn the dry leaves may be raced to the barn for 
bedding. Even empty wheelbarrows will do to race 
with, but every small boy knows it is better fun to run 
with a full barrow than an empty one, and to help 
father makes one feel like the little girl who said on her 
birthday, “I know I’m only six, but I feel eight!” 



Pulling the Wism-jbone, 






































' 


































































































GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


249 


WHEEL OF FORTUNE. 

Materials.—A large sheet of paper; two pencils. 

This is an old game which comes from Georgia. 
Two children play it or it may be used by a party of 
children playing in pairs. Between each pair is a 
large sheet of paper, or a slate, upon which a picture 
of a wheel is drawn with a number written between 
each pair of spokes. The child whose turn it is to play 
closes his eyes, holds his pencil a few inches above the 
wheel while he turns the pencil a number of times with 
a circular movement of the wrist and repeats a rhyme. 
For example: 

“Turn Fortune, turn thy wheel 
While I my eyelids seal 
And try my fate.” 

As he says the last word the pencil descends. If the 
point touches a space the number written there is 
counted for him. If it falls on a line or outside the 
circle or on a number previously counted (which should 
he crossed off) the play is lost and the other child 
takes his turn. When the score of either player 
reaches the number agreed upon before the game be¬ 
gan that player has won. If the game is played by a 
party, the first set of winners may play against each 
other, then the winners in that match and so on until, 
as in a tournament, the winner of the final round may 
receive a prize. 

JUMP SNAIL. 

A family of American children in Switzerland 
learned, from their Swiss schoolmates, a hop scotch 
game called Jump Snail, which became a great favorite 
with them and their friends when they returned to 
their native shores. A rough drawing of a snail, like 
Fig. 3, about five feet in diameter, was made on the 
gravel with a stick. At equal distances lines were 
drawn across the convolutions of the snail shell, about 
fifteen in all. Two children played, each, in turn, hop- 


250 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


ping on one foot from line to line along the narrowing 
pathway to the center and then back again. If a player 
succeeded in getting back without missing a line or 
putting his raised foot on the ground he might put a 

stone on any line in the snail 
pathway, thus making it his 
special resting place, upon 
which he only could set foot, 
his opponent being obliged to 
hop across it. Should he fail, 
however, his opponent took his 
turn and if he succeeded might 
put a leaf, as his mark, on a 
line to keep the first player 
from using it. The game went on till all the lines were 
reserved in this way when the player having the great¬ 
est number of resting places won the game. 

RAILROAD. 

Materials.—Two slates with pencils, or a large sheet of paper and 

two lead pencils. 

With pencils and paper or slates and pencils two 
children can amuse themselves a long time with this 
simple form of railroading. Each draws a crude little 
engine at his end of the paper followed by as many 
dashes as he chooses, which are to represent cars. One 
player starts a counting-out rhyme, pointing his pencil 
first at his opponent’s engine, then at his own, next 
at the first car in the opposite train, then at the first 
in his, and so on till the car he points to last is “lost” 
and is rubbed out. The game continues, each child 
taking his turn, till the rhyme ends at one of the en¬ 
gines when that one is “off the track” and the owner 
of the opposing train wins. 

MILK, BUTTER, CHEESE. 

Materials.—A slate and two pencils or a large sheet of paper and 

two lead pencils. 

From Friesland, the famous dairy country, comes 
a good game called, quite naturally, Milk-Rutter- 



GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


251 


Cheese. The children of that part of Holland play it 
on their slates or with pencils and paper. One of the 
two players draws a diagram like Fig. 4. Then one of 
the children puts a cross in one of the squares. The 
other player marks a cross in another square, not too 

near his adversary, as the ob¬ 
ject of each is to place a cross 
so that it will make the third 
in a row. No matter whether 
he or his opponent made the 
first crosses, if he completes a 
trio he points to it saying 
“ Milk-Butter-Cheese!” and 
scores a point. This he sets 
down on the side of the paper or slate. When all the 
squares are filled with crosses the child who has most 
points is the winner. 








~f- 


X 



X 


X 



X 


X 






'A 


ficU 


TIN SCRAPS. 

Materials.—Thirty or 40 pieces of tin, 4 inches long by % wide. 

A game that is played a great deal in Holland by 
both boys and girls has an unpronounceable name so 
we will call it Tin Scraps for short, as it is played with 
strips of tin three-quarters of an inch wide and about 
four inches long. Each player has fifteen or twenty 
of these pieces. In starting, the first player stands 
at a line drawn on the gravel or toes the edge of a 
carpet or rug, if the game is played indoors, and 
throws one of his pieces as far as he can from him. 
The next player tries to throw his piece so that it will 
hit his opponent’s, and if he is successful he wins the 
piece. Otherwise the one who played first measures 
the distance between his piece and his opponent’s and 
if it is less than the distance from the tip of his thumb 
to that of his little finger, when his hand is extended, 
he can take the other child’s piece. The players keep 
throwing thus in turn until one has captured all the 
pieces of the other when the game is won. 













252 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


II.—GAMES IN THE FAMILY. 

CONCERT. 

This is a game that little French children delight 
in playing. The players form a row or semi-circle 
in front of which stands one who is called the Leader. 
Each child chooses a different musical instrument 
which he is to play in pantomine. The Leader wields 
an imaginary baton, or simply twirls his hands one 
around the other. He gives the signal for the players 
to begin by starting his motions and the other chil¬ 
dren fiddle, beat the drum, play the harp, piano or 
cymbals, all in pantomine. Whenever the Leader 
chooses he begins to play one of the instruments of 
another child, who must immediately stop his own 
playing and go through the Leader’s motions. Should 
he not be quick enough to see at once what the Leader 
has done, he must change places with him and keep 
wielding the baton until he can catch another player 
napping in the same way. 

CHERRY TREE. 

Materials.—A small branch of a cherry tree to which are tied artificial 
cherries and leaves; as many tiny hatchets as there are players; 
a mound of sand upon a round tray; bunches of artificial cherries, 
one less than the number of players. 

A game that may be used by the family on Wash¬ 
ington’s Birthday or at a party given on that day is 
played in this way. The hostess prepares beforehand 
a tiny tree from a cherry branch hung with clusters 
of cherries and leaves, such as are sold by dealers in 
favors. This is stuck in the top of a pile of sand 
heaped in the center of a large round tray. Each 
player receives a small hatchet and is told to use it in 
removing a little of the sand from the hill when his 
turn comes. Each slices off as little as he can for the 
object of the game is to avoid letting the tree fall as 
a result of touching the sand. The player who finally 
lets it fall is the butt of many jokes and much laughter 
and is the only one who does not receive a cluster of 
cherries. 



THE DANCING LESSON.—Little men and women of tlie eighteenth century, mimicking the pastimes of 
their elders. 1 * 01 











GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


253 


HOME-MADE QUOITS. 

Materials. Eight feet of heavy cord about % inch in diameter for 
each player—this will make three quoits; a ball of light twine; a 
quart bottle filled with sand. 

One sometimes forgets to bring to the camp or sum¬ 
mer cottage playthings and games for indoor use, and 
when a rainy day comes and the children are clamor¬ 
ing for entertainment one must use one’s wits to pro¬ 
vide amusement. A piece of heavy cord about half the 
thickness of rope may be twisted into excellent quoits— 
the ends wound and tied to the ring with light twine. 
About thirty-two inches of the heavy cord will be 
enough for each quoit, and for the mark at which they 
are to be aimed a quart bottle filled with sand answers 
admirably. This is set up at a distance of five or six 
feet from where the players stand. 

BIRDS FLY. 

This old game under the name of Pigeons Volent is 
a favorite with French children and equally so with 
young Americans. To play it a number of children 
choose a Leader who sits in front of the others. All 
the rest of the players take seats in a semicircle. The 
Leader begins by placing his right forefinger on his 
right knee then raises the arm, with the forefinger still 
extended, as far as the right shoulder, saying, “Birds 
fly.” The other children imitate his motions exactly/ 
repeating 44 Birds fly.” He then says 44 Bees fly” or 
44 Moths fly” at the same time repeating the gesture 
with the forefinger as quickly as possible, each of the 
other players doing, and saying exactly as he does. 
Anyone failing to do so must pay a forfeit. The only 
time the forefinger must not be raised is when the 
Leader mentions an animal or object that can not fly, 
in which case any player who does so must pay a 
forfeit. 

MODELLING WITHOUT CLAY. 

Materials.—A bundle of newspapers; an old agate saucepan or stone 
crock; a kettle of boiling water; about a pint of thin flour paste. 

What normal child is there who does not prefer 
toys of his own making to any that are to be found in 


254 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


shops? Then imagine the joy of making the material 
of which they are to be formed! What is this ma¬ 
terial? Why papier mache, of which so many toys and 
favors are made. It costs practically nothing and 
is as fascinating to work with as modelling-clay. 
A bundle of newspapers,' an old agate saucepan 
or stone crock of generous size, a kettleful of boil¬ 
ing water and two or three cups of thin flour paste 
are all the materials one needs. If several children 
work together to make the papier mache, with Mother 
to guide them, it will not take long to prepare. First, 
a number of newspapers are torn into small scraps— 
enough to fill the saucepan. Boiling water is then 
poured over them and they are left for several hours. 
Then all the children may shred and pick the paper 
to pieces, very small pieces, indeed. After this a 
smaller saucepanful of thin flour paste is slowly poured 
into the mass, which is mixed and stirred and kneaded 
with the hands till it becomes clay-like in consistency— 
practise will enable one to get it just right—and then 
what joy for the children. Even the two-year-old 
can form marbles, by a rolling motion, between his 
chubby palms. Birds’ nests, “clioo-choos,” blocks, and 
other treasures grow quickly under the hands of the 
older children. When the toys are dry, which will not 
be for several days, they may be colored with water 
color paints. 

PRETTY MAID’S DAIRY. 

A variation of Old Bachelor’s Kitchen—so dear to 
the children of twenty years ago—is Pretty Maid’s 
Dairy. Each child chooses something to be used in a 
dairy—milk-pan, buttermilk, spoon, strainer, churn, 
etc. The Pretty Maid asks of each child in turn, 
“What will you give for a Pretty Maid’s Dairy?” 
The child answers the name of the article he has 
chosen and then follow questions in regard to 
the article, all of them intended to make the player 
laugh. Should he do so he must pay a forfeit to the 



GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


Pretty Maid and the next player is questioned about 
his choice. So it goes on to the end of the line—when 
the forfeits are redeemed. 

STRINGING BEADS. 

Materials.—Almost as many boxes of kindergarten beads as there 
are children; a spool of coarse white linen thread; a paper of 
needles large enough to use with the linen thread. 

Stringing the fascinating big glass beads that 
Mother brings home in round wooden boxes, is a joy 
to boys and girls. Even the youngest of the family— 
two or three years old—will be able to make a neck¬ 
lace or bracelet. Strong linen thread or coarse silk 
will be needed and large enough needles to hold it. 
Then from one child to a party will find entertainment 
for half an hour or more. A gathering of children 
may have a necklace-making contest. For a party of 
six, five boxes of beads should be provided and a prize 
may be given to the maker of the prettiest necklace, 
while every child will have his own chain, by way of 
a favor, to take home. 


TOY SHOP. 

Such shouts of delight as the children give when 
Toy Shop is suggested as the next game! No ma¬ 
terials are needed, but it is important to get some older 
person to help as Leader. Chairs are arranged as for 
4 ‘Going to Jerusalem,’’ i. e., in a row, one facing out, 
the next with its back turned, and so on. There 
should be one chair less than the number of players, 
including the Leader. The Leader whispers to each 
child the name of a toy which he is to impersonate— 
train of cars, top, woolly lamb, hoop, ball, etc. She 
then explains that she will tell a story about the Toy 
Shop as she walks around the chairs and as each of 
the child-toys is mentioned he or she must rise and 
catch the skirt of the Leader or the blouse or skirt of 
the player at the back of the line and fly along with 
them. As the story progresses the line grows, till 


256 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


when all the toys have been named the story comes to 
an abrupt end in some such way as this: “Just then 
a little girl named Betty Lou came in to buy a toy” 
(the sign of the end of the story being the naming of 
a boy or girl customer). When the line breaks all run 
for seats and the child who is left standing becomes 
the Leader. 

SIDEWALK BAIL WAY. 

Why is it not possible to make the daily airing of 
small tots along city streets more interesting? The 
poor little bored faces are in such contrast to the eager, 
rosy ones of country babies at play! A mother who 
had often asked herself this question was pacing up and 
down a wide, airy and comparatively empty avenue in 
the outskirts of a large city one raw day in February, 
with her two young sons, aged two and four, and a roly- 
poly niece of two years. Puddles and dirty patches of 
snow were the only attractions, so that her little flock 
were kept on the dry sidewalk of a single block. Sud¬ 
denly the even lines between the stones of the sidewalk 
gave her an idea. The children immediately became 
“choo-choos,” running singly or holding skirts in 
threes, one behind the other as engine, coal car and pas¬ 
senger coach. Down one line and up the other, some¬ 
times switching off on to the parallel track, but always 
on the cracks, until they came to a station—their own 
door or some specially marked gateway. Another day 
the game was elaborated by having the “engine” 
chosen by counting out, and when he, by accident, ran 
off the track, his place was taken by the next child, 
while he became the last car. 

SLICED VALENTINES. 

Materials.—As many valentine postal cards as there are children; as 
many small heart-shaped boxes as there are children; a prize 
which may be a tiny mirror, a bon-bon filled heart or a large 
and beautiful valentine. 

This game for Saint Valentine’s Day is easily pre¬ 
pared, absorbing to the children, and may be played in 
the family or at a Valentine party. The postal card 
Valentines, one for each child, are cut into puzzle form 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


257 


\ 


with several snips of the shears, and the pieces of each 
are packed into one of the heart-shaped bon-bon boxes, 
those that are about two and a half inches across and 
are covered with glossy red paper. These, if they are 
to be used in the family, may be passed around, in a 
tray or basket, after dinner to the children, who each 
take one and, at a given signal, try to put the Valentine 
puzzles together as quickly as they can. The one fin¬ 
ishing first receives a prize. 

THE FAMILY. 

Materials.—A number of old magazines; as many pairs of scissors as 
children; a number of tubes of paste; several large sheets of 
brown paper or cardboard. 

Cutting and pasting games always appeal to chil¬ 
dren who are just old enough to be allowed to do both, 
and this one is so easily prepared that it will be a 
pleasure to both children and mother on a rainy day, 
or when some one asks, “What shall we do now!” 
Each child receives an old magazine, one that is not 
too precious to be cut up, a pair of scissors and a sheet 
of cardboard or heavy wrapping paper 10x14 inches. 
When they are all seated around a table in the nursery 
or schoolroom the object of the game is explained. Eacln 
child is expected to choose a family from the pictures in 
his magazine, father, mother, children, large and small, 
baby and pets—cut them out, group and paste them as 
carefully as he can on his cardboard or paper. Then 
when all are finished, (there may be a time allowance 
of twenty minutes to half an hour) the papers are col¬ 
lected and hung in exhibition style on the wall. If it 
seems wise a prize may be given for the best picture. 

Hi.—PARTY GAMES. 

THE LEAVES AND THE WIND. 

Materials.—Several sheets of red tissue paper; several sheets of 
yellow tissue paper; two palm-leaf fans; half as many blunt- 
pointed scissors as there are children; a pattern for a maple leaf; 
a prize. 

Before this game begins, the children who are 
to play it may prepare the leaves with which it 


VOL. 1—17 


258 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


is played. They are cut from red and yellow tissue 
paper to represent maple leaves. Each player is 
provided with three, two red leaves and one yellow. 
The race begins at a chair placed at one end of the 
room; this is called the Tree. At about the middle of 
the room a large pan of water is placed to represent a 
Pond and the goal or Barn is a broad, low basket or 
tray at the farther end of the room. Two players race 
at a time, each blowing his three leaves with the breezes 
from a palmleaf fan. The player who first gets his 
leaves safely into the Barn is the winner. Should one 
of the leaves fall into the Pond it is lost to the player 
to whom it belongs, and this prevents his winning the 
race, as he must put all three into the Barn. The 
children who are winners play against each other until 
the one who wins the final race may receive a prize. 

THE GARDENER. 

This game, which is played like the time-honored 
one of Fox and Geese, is a favorite with little children. 
One of the children is chosen Gardener, another is the 
Mole and the rest of the players, who represent flowers, 
stand in two circles, one within the other, all facing in. 
In and out between them runs the Mole, chased by the 
Gardener. When the Mole is in danger of being caught 
he stands in front of one of the children in the inner 
circle, thus making three players in a row. The third 
child, that is the one in the outer ring, must take the 
Mole’s place and run about among the flowers, pursued 
by the Gardener. If the Mole is caught, he must take 
the Gardener’s place. 

CATCH THE APPLE. 

Materials.—A basket of apples. 

This is an out-of-door game that young children, as 
well as older ones, will enjoy. It is often seen on 
school grounds, for quite a large number of children 
can play at a time. Two parallel lines, about forty feet 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


259 


apart, are drawn on the ground. Half way between 
them is a stick driven into the earth. On the pointed 
top of the stick an apple is placed. The children are 
divided into two parties which stand, each on its line, 
facing the other. At a given signal the child on the 
right of each line runs toward the apple, the object 
being to snatch it and get back to his place on the line 
before the other player can tag him. Whichever one 
fails becomes the prisoner of the opposing side, while 
the winner may eat the apple—as a new one should be 
placed on the stick after each run. The game ends 
when every child has had his turn, and the side which 
has taken most prisoners wins. 

DRAWING RAILROAD TRAINS FOR A PRIZE. 

Materials.—As many sheets of paper as children; as many pencils 

as children; a toy train of cars. 

A contest that will appeal strongly to the average 
small boy is arranged as follows: Each little boy guest 
receives a sheet of paper and a pencil, and is told that 
the one who draws the best train of cars in fifteen min¬ 
utes will receive a fine toy locomotive and cars as a 
prize. The contest begins at the ringing of a bell by 
the hostess. In fifteen minutes the bell rings again, 
the drawings are collected and each marked with the 
name of the child who made it. A Judge, who may be 
the hostess, decides which of the drawings deserves the 
prize. 

TOSSING THE MONKEY. 

Materials.—A home-made monkey of cloth. 

This is a game that very small children can play. 
The players are divided into two camps, each with a 
Leader. They stand facing each other in two lines, 
with a Leader at the head of each. One Leader says: 
“We choose ‘front’.” The other Leader for his party 
takes “back.” This means that when the first Leader 
throws a cloth monkey into the air, so that it will fall 
between the two lines, if it lands face up, the party 


260 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


headed by Leader No. 1 all laugh heartily, but if any 
one in the other line even smiles, he must pay a for¬ 
feit—or, if the children playing are too young to un¬ 
derstand about forfeits, any child who laughs may be 
out of the game. Should the monkey fall back up, the 
party headed by the other Leader may all laugh, but 
any one who laughs in party No. 1 must give a forfeit. 
Any other amusing toy, such as a darky rag doll or 
Humpty Dumpty, may he used instead of the monkey. 

BUNNIE PUZZLES. 

Materials.—A large bowl or jar with a small opening; half again as 
many gray cardboard bunnies as children; a prize which may 
be a papier mache rabbit filled with bonbons. 

Played as an Easter game, or at any other season, 
little children will enjoy Bunnie Puzzles. Mother or 
an older sister who can draw will find in children’s 
books or magazines bunnies in various attitudes—sit¬ 
ting, running, standing, bunnies at play or in flight, 
bunnies eating and sleeping. These will be easy to 
copy on gray cardboard in sizes varying from four to 
five inches high. A zigzag cut of the scissors across 
each will transform it into a bunnie puzzle. All of the 
pieces are stowed away in a large earthen or china 
bowl or vase, with an opening not too wide, but large 
enough to admit even a grown-up’s hand. This bowl 
is put in the center of a round table which will seat six 
or eight children. Each child draws from the bowl one 
piece of cardboard—then the object of the game 
becomes apparent, for every one hopes to draw the 
other end of his or her bunnie. Thus the game goes on 
till the bowl is empty, when the child who has completed 
the most puzzles receives as a prize a candy-filled 
bunnie. 

PUNCH AND JUDY. 

This is one of the old-fashioned games, where the 
players form a ring—all except one child, who is blind¬ 
folded and led into the middle of the ring. He is called 
Punch. The players in the ring dance merrily around 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


261 


until Punch calls “halt! ’’ He then points at one of the 
players, who must come inside the ring. As he does so 
the blindfolded child cries “Judy,” the other answers 
“Punch.” Punch then tries to catch “Judy,” who 
must, of course, stay within the circle, and when he 
finally succeeds he tries to guess, by feeling, who it is. 
Should he guess correctly, “Judy” must take 
“Punch’s” place, while he joins the ring, and the game 
goes on. 

COLORS. 

Materials.—Tissue paper balls of all the common colors—white, 
brown, gray, blue, green, yellow, orange, purple, red, and pink 
a large bowl-shaped basket or tray. 

This charming game for little children may also he 
played by their older sisters and brothers. The favors— 
tissue paper balls of all colors—are made by the chil¬ 
dren themselves before the game begins. A sheet of 
tissue paper in each of the common colors is provided, 
and a cardboard pattern of a circle four inches in diam¬ 
eter is also made ready. Ten or twelve circles of paper 
of one color are fringed at the edges, then loosely 
folded in quarters and sewed together by their centers 
so as to make a ball—not unlike a ball of shaving-paper. 
These in the different colors make a gay and fluffy tray¬ 
ful of favors. To play the game the children choose 
a Leader, who sits beside the small table, on which the 
trayful of paper halls stand. Around him are the rest 
of the players, seated in a semi-circle. The Leader 
says, “I am thinking of a color. What is it?” he asks 
of the first player. Each child in turn names a color, 
and as soon as a player has guessed the one the Leader 
has in mind, the Leader throws a ball of that color at 
him, and he in turn becomes Leader. 

JUDGE. 

Materials.—A tin or wooden tray. 

A game which was played by the children of Massa¬ 
chusetts in olden times is as amusing to the children of 
today as it was to those of long ago. It is an elabora- 


262 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


tion of “Spin the Platter.’’ One of the children is 
chosen “Judge,” and the others take seats in a circle. 
Each child in turn spins the platter, but before doing 
so must ask permission of the “Judge” in this way: 
“May I go to the middle of the room? May I spin the 
platter? On which side shall it fall?” If the platter 
falls on the wrong side (i. e., the opposite side from the 
one upon which the Judge commanded it to fall) the 
player must give a forfeit. 

CARDINAL’S HAT. 

An old game, hut an excellent one, is played in this 
way: The players each choose a different colored cap 
to represent—blue cap, white cap, yellow cap, etc. One 
of the children is chosen Cardinal, and he accuses 
another player of stealing his cap. The player replies, 
“Not I, sir.” “Who then, sir?” says the Cardinal. 
“Yellow cap, sir,” giving the assumed name of another 
player, who is then accused in his turn, and each must 
direct suspicion to still another player in the same way. 
Should a player give the name of a colored cap that has 
not been chosen by any of the players, he must pay a 
forfeit. 


VEGETABLE PUZZLES. 

Materials.—A large milk-pan filled with sand; vegetable puzzles 
prepared according to directions below; several sheets of earth- 
brown tissue paper; several yards of narrow pale green ribbon; 
a prize which may be a papier mach6 vegetable or piece of fruit. 

For a party of small children in springtime, when 
gardens, large and small, are being planted, try this 
game. Fill a large milkpan with sand, and in it plant 
packages prepared as follows: Choose from a seeds¬ 
man’s catalogue the largest and most highly colored of 
his mammoth vegetables, as many as there are children. 
Paste each on cardboard and cut out carefully; then 
with three snips of the shears cut it into a puzzle. Wrap 
these sets of pieces in separate packages with earth- 
brown tissue paper, tied with pale green ribbon, and 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


263 


arrange in the sand, as in a Jack Horner pie. Provide 
a papier macke pumpkin, potato or other vegetable 
filled with simple sweets—home-made peppermints for 
choice—by way of a prize, and the game is complete. 
When the time for playing it arrives, let each child in 
turn pull his ribbon, and then at a signal, each tries to 
put his puzzle together. The one finishing first is 
rewarded by the prize vegetable. 

WITCH IN THE JAR. 

This is one of the running games that has always 
been a favorite for out-of-door play. One of the play¬ 
ers is chosen Witch, and each of the others takes a tree 
or bush for a goal. The Witch marks on the ground 
as many circles as there are children; these she calls 
her jars. The players run from their homes and are 
chased by the Witch. When one is caught he is put 
into a jar, and can only escape when touched by one of 
the other children. After this he can not be re-caught 
until he has been to his home, but the player who 
released him can be caught. When all are caught a new 
Witch is chosen. 


FEATHER PLAY. 

Materials.—Three tiny feathers, one white, one blue and one red. A 
prize which may be a picture of birds, a toy airship or a live 
canary. 

A game in the form of a race is always a favorite, 
and blowing feathers is such fun for little tots it is not 
surprising that this game, which combines the two, 
should be a success. Bits of down of different colors 
may be used. One child has a blue one, the other a red, 
and if the room where the game is to be played is wide 
enough for three players to race at once, a third child 
may compete with a white feather. At a given signal 
the children, who are kneeling, each back of his feather 
(which is placed on a line formed by the edge of a rug), 
start blowing their feathers across the room to the 



264 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


goal, which is marked by a narrow ribbon or piece of 
bright worsted stretched from one side of the room to 
the other. A prize may be given to the winner—a toy 
airship, a picture of birds, or, if the game is played at a 
party, the child who is the winner of the final race 
(which may be run off in tournament style by the win¬ 
ners of each event racing against each other) may 
receive a canary in a cage. 

A VISIT TO THE FARM. 

Half of the children are blindfolded and seated on 
chairs, each having an empty chair at his right. As a 
signal is given the remaining players take seats in the 
empty chairs, and at a second signal each crows like a 
cock. The blindfolded player on the left of him must 
then try to guess who is his crowing neighbor on the 
right. The children who have succeeded in this are 
unbandaged, and the place of each is taken by the one 
whose voice he guessed. In the next round the players 
who are not blindfolded all neigh like horses. In the 
third they may moo like cows, grunt like pigs or quack 
like ducks, and so the game goes on. 

SO HIGH WATER. 

The old, old game of “Hunt the Thimble’’ is played 
differently in different parts of the country. Little 
children in Cambridge, Massachusetts, twenty-five or 
thirty years ago played it in this way: After the child 
who was chosen “It” had left the room the thimble was 
hidden, and before the out player was called in, a 
Leader, who was either an older person or one of the 
other children, measured with his hand the height from 
the floor to the hiding-place of the thimble. As the out 
player came in he was greeted by the Leader saying, 
“So high water,” as he held out his hand horizontally 
at the height of the thimble. The out player put his 
own hand at the same height and started, with this as 
a guide, to find the thimble. 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


265 


BIRD’S NEST. 

An out-of-door game that is not new, but is a great 
favorite with young children, is played as follows: 
The children form groups of four or five in circles with 
hands joined. A single player is in the center of each 
ring. Two children are chosen—one to be the “Bird,” 
the other the “Cat.” The game is then described in 
this way: The field is a forest, and the cat wandering 
there is hunting birds. Each of the rings represents 
a bird’s nest, but will only hold a single bird. When the 
bird who is out in the forest flies into a nest, the one 
already there must fly away. The cat prowling about 
chases the birds till one is caught, when that child 
becomes the cat and the other a bird. 

SANTA CLAUS WILL BRING ME.? 

Materials.—The fairy’s wand—a stick wound with tarletan or 
crepe paper in two colors and surmounted by a silver star. 

A touch of festivity is given to this game by the 
dainty wand which the Leader, who is called the Fairy, 
uses. It may be made from a hoop-stick wound with 
strips of tarletan in two colors—white and silver or 
blue and white, with a silver star attached to the end. 
Or, if the game is played at Christmas time, a holly 
branch mav be used instead. The children stand in a 
row while the one who has been chosen “Fairy” faces 
them. She says, pointing with her wand to the child 
at the head of the line: “Tell me what will Santa Claus 
bring you—something that begins with 6 A \” If the 
child can not give the name of a toy beginning with 
“A” while the Fairy is counting ten, he goes to the 
foot of the line and the next player is called on. If he 
also misses, the question passes to the next, and so on, 
the children going up head or down foot of the line, as 
in an old-fashioned Spelling Bee. 

APPLE RACE. 

Materials.—Four large baskets; half as many apples as players. 

This variation of a well-known passing game is 
played with apples by ten or more children, of over five 



266 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


years. It will be useful, either at an informal gather¬ 
ing of children on the playground or at a children’s 
party. The children choose two Leaders, who in turn 
choose sides. The opposing players then line up on 
opposite sides of the room or on the playground, about 
eight feet apart. Beside the Leader of each party is a 
large basket of apples, half as many as there are play¬ 
ers on that side, and there is an empty basket at the 
other end of the line. At a given signal the Leader 
passes an apple to the next child with his left hand. The 
child receives it in his left hand, and it is so passed to 
the end of the line. Another apple follows, and another 
as quickly as possible until all have reached the basket 
at the end farthest from the Leader. The player next 
the full basket now takes an apple in his right hand 
and passes it. This apple and those that follow it go 
back thus from right hand to right hand, until the 
Leader has dropped the last one in the basket when, if 
the apples of the opposing side are still passing, he is 
declared the winner, and he and his players may divide 
the apples among them. 

THE PEACH. 

This is a delightful game that may be played indoors 
or out, and requires no preparation except to collect a 
number of children—the more the merrier. A line is 
formed, one child behind the other and each with his 
hands on the shoulders of the player in front of him. 
One child only is left out. That one is called the Cus¬ 
tomer. The player at the head of the line is the Gar¬ 
dener, the one at the foot the Peach. The children in 
between represent the trees in the orchard. The Cus¬ 
tomer comes to the Gardener and says, “I would like 
to buy a peach.” ‘ 4 It is on the last tree in the orchard,” 
answers the Gardener. The Customer runs to the end 
of the line to pick it, but the Peach starts running away 
toward the front of the line. If he succeeds in getting 
to the head before the Customer can catch him, he 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


267 


becomes the Gardener while the Customer must try for 
another peach. Should the Customer catch him, how¬ 
ever, he takes the place of the Customer, and the game 
starts again. 

IV.—PLANS FOR CHILDREN’S PARTIES. 

A SPRING BIRTHDAY PARTY. 

When the breezes draw from the sun-warmed earth 
a breath of Spring, a delightful party may be planned 
for the little child who is so fortunate as to live in the 
country and whose birthday comes at planting time. 
Not an out-of-door party, the air is not mild enough for 
that yet, but a gardening frolic, part fun and part ear¬ 
nest. Children from five to twelve will enjoy this 
party, though the age limit need not be insisted upon, 
since the pleasures of planting appeal to children of 
any age. The hours should be short, from four to six 
will be long enough for a wholesome frolic, and there 
will be no danger of the small guests getting overtired 
and cross. The children should be asked to bring 
rompers or overalls for the protection of party clothes. 

CHOOSING CROPS. 

Materials.—As many packets of seeds as there are children; a large 
bowl or basket; as many shallow Avooden boxes prepared with 
earth for planting as there are children; tiny trowels, one for 
each child. 

Small packets of seeds—vegetable and flower—are 
heaped in a great bowl or basket, and from this the 
children choose what they wish to plant in the shallow 
boxes provided for them. When all have arrived the 
planting begins. Small trowels should be provided 
beforehand, one for every child. With these they dig 
the little holes and drop in the seeds. When this is 
accomplished and the earth in each box holds its treas¬ 
ure of seeds, the boxes are marked with the owner’s 
names, and mother, or a big sister, tells the children 
to put the little boxes in a window where the sun will 



268 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


reach them, and when to transplant the wee plants to 
the garden. This is followed by a game called 

GARDENING. 

It is played like Toy Shop (see p. 255) except that 
each child chooses the name of a tool or seed, and the 
Leader tells the story of how he planted his garden. 
When he finally says, “We saw a great, black cloud 
coming and ran for the piazza,” all must run for seats. 

PLANTING THE BORDER. 

Materials.—Sixty sunflower seeds; two foot-rules; a prize which may 
be a growing plant or a gardening book for children. 

Two children at a time compete in this game. Each 
has thirty sunflower seeds and a foot-rule, and must lay 
the seeds along one edge of a rug in groups of three, 
one foot apart. The child who finishes first is the win¬ 
ner. The winners in the first round then play against 
each other, and another round is played and another 
until the winner of the last round is rewarded by a set 
of gardening tools or a growing plant. 

FLOWERS OR WEEDS. 

Materials.—As many cards with pencils attached as there are 
children; six seeds each of a different flower or a weed; a prize 
which may be a watering pot or a small wheelbarrow. 

Each child receives a card with a pencil attached. 
On the left side of the card are numbers, from 1 to 6. 
Six seeds of flowers and weeds should have been pro¬ 
vided beforehand, seeds large enough to be handled 
singly. The hostess takes one of these seeds and, hold¬ 
ing it up, says, 

“Of what is the seed, 

A flower or a weed ?” 

The seed is then passed along the line of children, and 
each writes which he thinks it is the seed of, a weed 
or a flower. The hostess then takes another seed, and, 
repeating the same couplet, passes it along the line. 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


269 


The children again write their guesses—this time oppo¬ 
site No. 2 on their cards. When the sixth seed has 
been guessed every child writes his initials on his card. 
The cards are then collected, and the player who has 
made the largest number of correct guesses may be 
rewarded by a watering pot or a small wheelbarrow. 

THE MAGIC POPPY. 

Materials.—A tin horn wound with green tissue-paper and with 
poppy petals of red tissue-paper pasted around the large end. 

The children form a ring, and the one who has been 
chosen “Keeper of the Poppy” stands in the center 

holding a large horn decorated to 
represent a poppy (see Fig. 5). The 
hostess or some other grown person 
stands outside the circle and repeats 
the following rhyme: 

“Round and round and round they go, 
Till they hear the poppy blow. 

Then they all fall fast asleep, 

See how still each one can keep.” 

As the verse ends the child in the center blows his 
poppy horn. The children in the circle fall to the 
ground, apparently fast asleep, and must not stir, at 
least while the “Keeper of the Poppy” is watching, for 
he is on the alert to catch any one who moves. Should 
he succeed, that child must take his place in the middle 
of the ring with the poppy horn, and the game goes on 
as before. 



COUNTRY HOMES. 

Materials.—As many trays or shallow boxes of sand as players; a 
tiny house of cardboard or wood or a small set of blocks for 
each player; a large bowl or basket filled with twigs of ever¬ 
green, flowering shrubs and those that have small leaves; a 
trayful of moss, real or artificial; a large bowlful of pebbles; 
a prize. 

Each child receives a pan or shallow box of sand, a 
tiny wooden house or a box of small wooden blocks and 
several twigs of evergreen, flowering shrubs or plants 


270 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


with fine foliage, as well as some sheets of real or arti¬ 
ficial moss, and a cupful of small stones. The hostess 
announces the plan of the game, which is as follows: 
When a bell rings each child will begin to make a min¬ 
iature garden in his tray of sand, placing the house, if 
it is already made, or building it if blocks are provided, 
wherever he thinks it will look best, and with his moss 
and twigs make the lawn and shrubbery—in fact, lay 
out a tiny country place. When the bell sounds again, 
in twenty minutes, every one must stop, and a judge, 
who may be the hostess or some other grown person, 
decides which is the most attractive model. A prize 
may be given the best one. 

If there is time after supper for another game, the 
children will enjoy, 

THE FLOWERS AND THE SUN. 

Materials.—A gilded wand with a pasteboard sun, also gilded, on 

the end. 

The children take hands and form a circle, all but 
one who is blindfolded and receives a gilded wand with 
a golden sun on the end. He represents the Sun, the 
other children are the flowers, each taking the name of 
a different one, but without telling the name to any one. 
The children dance around in a ring, singing some little 
song about the sun and the flowers, until the blindfolded 
Sun stops them with a wave of his wand. He touches 
one and asks her name. She replies, giving her flower 
name, and, if he can recognize the voice, he names the 
player. If he has guessed correctly, she must take his 
place in the ring, while he becomes one of the flowers. 
Otherwise, he has the privilege of asking two more 
questions about the flower she represents, and if he is 
still unable to recognize the voice, the player rejoins 
her companions, and after a time the Sun stops the 
children again, and tries to guess the name of anothei 
player. Thus the game goes on until it is time to say 
‘ ‘Good-night.” 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


271 


AN AIE PARTY. 

Materials.—A few more Japanese paper balls than players; as many 
palm-leaf fans as there are players; prize for each event. 

Such a frolic as this does not need real aeroplanes 
to make it a success. Nothing more costly or elaborate 
than paper air balls are used—such as one can buy at 
almost any Japanese store for a cent or two apiece, and 
as many palmleaf fans as there are children. If the 
hostess wishes, prizes may be provided and such dainty 
things as will suggest themselves. Pretty fans for the 
girls, toy balloons and airships for the boys. The games 
may be played out-of-doors, if the day is warm and not 
too breezy. When the children arrive Mother or a gov¬ 
erness puts on the head of each what appears to be a 
skull-cap of gaily flowered paper. When all are assem¬ 
bled the first game in the air party begins. This is a 
contest in which the children, each with a palmleaf fan 
in hand, and with the gaily flowered paper cap, which, 
it is explained, is really a Japanese air ball, starts at 
a given signal to separate what appears to be the lining 1 
of the paper cap from the outside—or, in other words, 
to start forming the ball. Each then bounces his ball 
upon the fan he holds until it grows more and more 
perfectly round. The player who first gets his ball 
into shape in this way is the winner, and may be 
rewarded by a prize. 

In the next event two children at a time compete. 
Starting at one end of the room (if the games are 
played indoors, or at a line drawn on the ground, if out- 
of-doors) each, at a given signal, throws his ball into 
the air and tries to blow it with the breeze from his fan 
to the opposite end of the room before his opponent 
can blow his ball there. Should he let it fall to the 
floor he must start again at the beginning of the course. 
The other players also contest in twos, in tournament 
fashion, the winners playing against each other till the 
winner in the final round receives a prize. 


272 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


AN AIR BALL RACE ON THE GROUND. 

This race is also run by two players at a time. Hur¬ 
dles formed of branches of shrubs and trees are placed 
at certain distances apart; croquet wickets may also be 
stuck here and there along the course, while an occa¬ 
sional pan of water makes an exciting obstacle or haz¬ 
ard. The goal at the end of the course is a large scrap 
basket. If the game is played in the house, two rows 
of chairs may be formed reaching from one end of the 
room to the other, making a kind of open-sided tunnel. 
Through one of these tubes each player fans his ball, 
taking care not to let it fly outside, for that would neces¬ 
sitate his starting all over again. The wall at the far¬ 
ther end of the room serves as a goal. The winner may 
receive a prize. 

In the next contest a prize may be offered to the 
player who keeps his ball in the air for the longest time. 
The players must drop out of the game when they are 
so unfortunate as to allow their ball to touch the ground 
or a piece of furniture. 

A VISIT TO THE ZOO. 

For a small boy’s birthday party, especially a boy 
who loves animals, what could be better than a visit to 
the Zoo 1 By that is not meant the real Zoo, which may 
be too far away to make a pilgrimage there possible, 
but a party made up of games in which animals play 
the chief part.' A liberal supply of animal crackers 
will be needed in the games, a papier maclie animal for 
each child, a cloth monkey and, crowning glory, a live 
rabbit, guinea pigs or, failing these, a puppy or a tiny 
fluffy kitten. These to serve as favors and prizes. 
When all the little guests have arrived they are told 
that a monkey has escaped from the Zoo, and there is 
to be a hunt for him then and there. It may be said 
here that the monkey, a cloth one, should be well hidden 
beforehand by the hostess, who may limit the area of 
the hunt to one, two or three rooms, as she thinks best. 
If desired, the monkey may be given as a prize to the 



A PANIC.—The amusements of the children of a Roman household. 










GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


273 


child who finds him, though the fun of discovering his 
hiding-place will be reward enough for the average 
small boy. The next game is played in the nursery at 
the sand-table, or, if the party is given in the summer, 
the young guests may flock to the sandpile, there to 
make a menagerie. Two children are chosen by lot or 
by “counting out” to lay out the grounds for the Zoo— 
hills and valleys and paths in the sandpile. The children 
take sticks or twigs (these may be the slender sticks 
used in kindergarten plays or No. 5 round rattan cut 
in 5-incli lengths), and each makes an enclosure or cage 
for an animal. All is now ready for the next game, 
which is 

NAMING ANIMALS. 

Materials.—A pound of animal crackers; one or two prizes. 

The hostess brings out a box in which, she tells the 
children, are a lot of animals that have just come from 
the other side of the world in the good ship “Noah’s 
Ark.” Holding up a camel she says, “Tell me what 
this is ? ” The first child to call the name gets the camel 
and puts him into the cage he has made in the Zoo. The 
next animal may be a more familiar one—a horse, a dog 
or a pig—but whatever it is, the first child to name it 
after the hostess has held it up and asked its name wins 
the animal. So it goes until the boxful of animals have 
vanished each to its cage. Then the child who has won 
the greatest number may receive a prize in addition to 
the animals themselves. A live bunny or other pet 
will be an excellent prize, while the child who has 
made the most perfect cage may also be rewarded by 
a prize—for example, a Noah’s Ark full of animals. 

NOAH’S ARK. 

The last game having been a quiet one the children 
will be quite ready for a romp, which is provided by 
the hostess as follows: As many animal crackers as 
there are players, lacking two, are put into a bag. 
There should be only two of each animal—two lions, 
two bears, two dogs, etc., and two slips of paper, one 


VOL. I—18 



274 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


bearing the name Noah, the other Mrs. Noah. Each 
child in turn puts in a thumb and draws out an animal 
or—a slip of paper. When all have been taken, the 
hostess tells the children that this game is a kind of 
tag. The two players who have drawn Mr. and Mrs. 
Noah are “It.” They must mark on the driveway 
an oblong, to represent the ark, and their object is 
to catch the animals who are running about by twos 
hand in hand—two lions, two lambs, two goats, etc, 
outside of the ark. When Mr. Noah goes to the door 
of the ark and claps his hands all the animals must 
separate from their mates, and if he or Mrs. Noah 
can catch one before twenty-five is counted by the host¬ 
ess or an umpire, he puts the animal in the ark; oth¬ 
erwise the animals join hands again, and he can not 
catch one till he has gone back to the ark and clapped 
his hands again as a signal for them to separate. 
When a player is caught he is out until the game is 
ended, and can only look on from the ark where he is 
penned, while his partner, having no one to join hands 
with, can be chased by Mr. and Mrs. Noah whenever 
they choose. When all the players have been caught, 
the two that were caught first become Mr. and Mrs. 
Noah. 

MENAGEKIE. 

A game that is played like the old-fashioned one, 
“I Went to my Grandmother’s to Tea,” comes next. 
One child says, “I went to the Menagerie.” His neigh¬ 
bor on the left asks, “What did you see there?” To 
this he replies, “A monkey.” The second child in 
his turn then says to his left-hand neighbor, “I went 
to the Menagerie,” and when asked what he saw, then 
replies, “A monkey and a parrot.” So it goes on, 
each repeating the animals already given and adding 
a name to the list. If a player fails to mention every 
animal, and each in its turn, he must drop out of the 
.game. By this time the children will be ready for 
’ supper. After they have finished, if there is time for 
another game, the following will prove a good one: 



1. A Doll’s Bed, made of brass and complete with sheets, etc., which 
cost One Hundred Dollars. 2. A Menagerie stocked with miniature ani- 

o 

mals, which cost Eighty-five Dollars. 
























GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


275 


A JUNGLE MAZE. 

Materials.—As many wooden or papier mach6 animals as children; 

as many 10-yd. lengths of green ribbon as children; a card for 

each child on which his name is written. 

Instead of the somewhat overdone Jack Horner 
pie, the children will find “Something to take home” 
if each follows the green ribbon to which a cord bear¬ 
ing his name is tied. These start in the middle of the 
room in a tangle of greenery, and the child who fol¬ 
lows his ribbon around table-legs, over sofas and 
under chairs will be sure to be rewarded at last by a 
woolly dog, a lion or a zebra, or some other treasure of 
a toy in a far-off corner. 

A SQUIRREL PARTY. 

“Gray Squirrel invites you to join him in his work 
and play, under the Oak Tree, Saturday afternoon, 
Oct. 5. 

“P. S.—Please do not wear your best suit.” 

So the invitations run. Each is written on an oak 
leaf—not a real oak leaf, of course, but a facsimile of 
one, cleverly tinted and cut from water-color paper by 
Gray Squirrel’s big sister. The children will meet 
under the Oak Tree and there find a curious ray-like 
effect from the trunk of the tree, which, on closer 
inspection, will prove to be a number of small rakes; 
in fact, as many as there are children. From every 
rake hangs a card bearing the name of a child, each 
tied with a ribbon bow of a different color. These 
correspond to the colors of tiny ribbon pennants, 
which fly from slender sticks, each stuck in the center 
of a portion of the lawn, which is marked at its cor¬ 
ners by four white sticks—like skewers. The lawn 
is thickly covered with leaves, and Gray Squirrel’s 
mother will tell the children that at the ringing of a 
bell each child must run and find the little field whose 
flag matches in color the ribbon on his rake, and set 
to work raking the leaves into a pile around the tiny 
flag-staff. The one who finishes first—provided his 
work is neat and satisfactory—will receive a prize. 


276 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


In the October air and golden sunshine work will seem 
play and the leaves will soon be in neat piles. The 
winner will receive a set of garden tools. Next on the 
program comes a game of 

HUNT THE SQUIRREL THROUGH THE WOOD. 

That old favorite, where the children form a ring, 
all but one, who goes around the outside of the circle 
chanting 

“Hunt the Squirrel through the wood, 

I lost him, I found him. 

Hunt the Squirrel through the wood, 

I lost him, I found him! 

I won’t catch you, and I won’t catch you, but 
I will catch you!” 

As he says this he taps one of the players on the back, 
and that child must start running around the outside 
of the circle in the opposite direction from the Hunter. 
Each tries his utmost to reach the gap in the circle 
before the other one. The player left out becomes 
Huntsman, and tries to catch a squirrel in the same 
way. When the children tire of playing this game, 
an Acorn Hunt may be proposed. 

AN ACORN HUNT. 

Materials.—As many baskets as children. 

Each child receives a small basket and is told to 
start at a given signal to pick up the acorns that strew 
the ground under the oak tree. The child who suc¬ 
ceeds in gathering the most acorns in a given time, 
say ten minutes, is the winner. All are then asked to 
take their acorns to the house and empty them into 
a great bowl in the living room where, after supper, 
there will be more games, if there is time. 

CANDY ACORNS. 

A delightful surprise may be planned for the chil¬ 
dren at Gray Squirrel’s party in the shape of tiny 
brown baskets, one for each to take home, filled with 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


277 


what look like real acorns, but are delicious and whole¬ 
some bon-bons. They are made in this way: A num¬ 
ber of bunches of white grapes are carefully stemmed, 
washed and dried, and on each a 44 saucer’’ is made by 
dipping the end in melted chocolate and then rolling 
it in powdered sugar. 

ACORN IN THE SQUIRREL’S HOLE. 

Materials.—As many small baskets, each containing about fifteen 
acorns as children; a wooden peg with a flat top about three- 
fourths of an inch in diameter. 

Each player receives a small basket of acorns— 
containing about fifteen. A circle about eight inches 
across is then drawn on the earth (for the game is 
played out-of-doors), and a mark is made at about 
five feet from the circle. In the middle of the ring a 
wooden peg with a flat top is driven. An acorn is set 
upon the peg. Before starting each child puts three 
acorns in the 44 pool,” which is a spot near the scene 
of the game. Each player in turn now throws a small 
stick at the acorn that is balanced on the peg. If he 
knocks it off into the circle he may take an acorn from 
the pool. If it falls outside the circle two acorns may 
be taken. If he fails to hit it at all, he must put one 
acorn into the pool. The child who has won the 
greatest number of acorns is, of course, the winner of 
the game. 


OTHER ACORN GAMES. 

Quite a number of interesting games may be plan¬ 
ned with acorns if Gray Squirrel’s helpers have gath¬ 
ered a lot of them before the real squirrels stored 
them away for winter use. Such charming playthings 
as they make! What little girl would not love a set 
of doll’s cups and saucers made by big brother! A 
contest for the best acorn cup and saucer would cer¬ 
tainly prove popular with boys of seven or over, espe¬ 
cially if the prize offered was a good knife, and the 
girls of the party might receive the cups and saucers 
afterward, by way of favors. 


278 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


THROWING ACORNS OR “SPANS.” 

Spanish children play this game with buttons. 
Two at a time compete standing eight or ten feet from a 
wall, against which they throw their acorns. A player 
starts by throwing one of his acorns. The other 
throws his against the wall, aiming to have it fall as 
close to the first player’s acorn as possible. If it falls 
within a span (that is, the distance from the end of 
the thumb to that of the little finger, when the hand 
is extended) of the other’s acorn, the one who threw 
it may aim it at the first player’s acorn, and if he hits 
it, it becomes his. 

AN AFTERNOON WITH SCISSORS. 

Children between the ages of three and seven will 
enjoy a party where they can use their blunt-pointed 
scissors in cutting, either for fun alone or for prizes. 
Of course, the kindergarten child has the advantage, 
hut undiscovered talent for cutting lies in the chubby 
fingers of many a baby below the kindergarten age. 
Each child may be asked to bring his scissors or, if the 
party is not too large, the hostess may provide them. 

PAPER DOLLS AND SOLDIERS. 

Materials.—As many pairs of blunt-pointed scissors as children; as 
many sheets of paper dolls as there are girls; as many of soldiers 
as there are boys; as many large envelopes as children; a prize 
if desired. 

The best place to hold this contest is in the nur¬ 
sery or schoolroom, where wooden floors may be easily 
swept when the fun is over. If there is a kindergar¬ 
ten table, so much the better. The hostess explains 
that at the ringing of a bell each child will start cut¬ 
ting out a sheet of soldiers or a sheet of paper dolls 
as quickly and well as possible. As each finishes he 
must slip his work into his envelope and hand it to 
the Judge (the hostess or some older person), who 
immediately marks on the envelope the hour and min¬ 
ute it was finished, together with the name of the child 
to whom it belongs. When all have finished the Judge 
decides which is the one that deserves the prize for 
rapidity and neatness. 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


279 


BUNNIES AND FROGS. 

Materials.—As many sheets of paper five inches wide by sixteen 

inches long, as there are players. 


No prize is needed in 
this game. Its object is 
the cutting of rows of bun¬ 
nies by the girls and frogs 
by the boys. Sheets of 
paper as many as there 
are children are provided 
by the hostess, and each 
folded (as one does for 
cutting rows of little girl 
or boy paper dolls), as 
follows : A piece of paper 
five inches in width and 
from ten to sixteen inches 
long, is folded, first back¬ 
ward, then forward, then 
backward again and for¬ 
ward till it is all folded, 
leaving two inches between each fold. Bend the folds 
together tightly and trace or draw half a bunny (see 
Fig. 6) on each of the girls’ papers, and half a frog 
(see Fig. 7) on each of the boys’. Each set of papers 
is then heaped on a separate tray and handed to the 
children, who cut out the half animals by the outlines, 
after having been warned by the hostess to continue 
cutting the hands to the edge of the fold. The papers 
are then opened, and shouts of glee will greet the rows 
of queer bunnies and queerer frogs! (Fig. 8.) 



FI G . 6. 




FiG.a 











































280 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 



DART THROWING. 

Materials.—First Method—Three times as many sheets of paper 6x9 
inches as there are players. A clothes basket; a prize. 

Second Method—Three times as many sheets of paper 6x9 inches 
as there are players; three pieces of tape or colored worsted, 
each as long as the room where the game is to be played 
is wide; a prize. 

A big brother can usually show the children how 
to make the paper darts with which this game is 
A played, but in case he is not at home, 

here are the directions: Take three 
times as many sheets of paper as 
there are children—about six by nine 
inches. Fold first as shown in Fig. 9. 
The second fold is lengthwise, from 
the point marked A to B, folding in 
the turned over corners (see Fig. 10). 
The next fold brings one side of the 
dart—the line C-C over to D-D (Fig. 
11). The other side is bent in the 
same way. The upper fold on the 
right side E-E is now bent over to 
F-F (see Fig. 12), and the lower fold 
follows to the same line on the under side, completing 
the dart (see Fig. 13). The game may be played in one 
of two ways. 


fio.9. 


B 


First Method. 

At the end of the room a clothes basket is placed 
and each child in turn, standing at a mark placed 
twelve or fourteen feet from the basket, throws a 
dart trying to put it in. Three rounds are played and 
the player who has put most darts into the basket 
wins the game. If two or more players have the same 
score they play three more rounds and the one who 
leads in this final contest receives a prize. 


Second Method. 

Older children will enjoy the second method of 
playing Darts. Three lines are marked with tape or 
colored worsted from side to side of the end of the 





GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


281 


room, one two feet from the wall, the next four feet 
and the next six. Darts thrown into the nearest 
division to the player count 1 each. Those into the 






second 5 and those into the farthest count 10. The 
players throw their darts in turn and the one who 
first scores 50 wins the game. 





















282 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


PIN-WHEELS. 

Materials.—Several sheets of pink, yellow, blue, green, and white 
tissue-paper; as many pin-wheel sticks as players; as many pairs 
of blunt-pointed scissors as players; a paper of pins; a prize. 

A prize may also be offered for the prettiest and 
best working pin-wheel made either from the old 
fashioned glazed pin-wheel papers or, what is pret¬ 
tier and newer, from several thicknesses of colored 
tissue paper lined with a paler shade of the same color 
and decorated in front by a tiny paper flower. These 
pin-wheels look not unlike flowers, great roses, 
chrysanthemums and narcissi. 

A SCISSORS PARTY IN THE FAMILY. 

Material.—Cotton or woolen rags, in pieces large enough to be cut 
in strips for rugs; about three yards of white cotton cloth; 
several large sheets of white paper; as many pairs of blunt- 
pointed scissors as children. 

Cutting strips of cloth for braided rugs will be 
found to be an amusing as well as a useful occupation 
for the five or six year old as well as for larger chil¬ 
dren, especially if it is planned, like an old fashioned 
quilting bee, as a sociable gathering of the children in 
the family and perhaps a neighbor or two, with a 
simple ‘ ‘ party ” of cocoa and cookies. A child who 
loves to use scissors will also enjoy cutting large¬ 
sized bunnies from white or gray paper to paste on 
the dark blue or green frieze of his bedroom (a big 
brother or sister or a friend who can draw will have 
no difficulty in making cardboard patterns for the 
bunnies—crouching or running). He may, if he 
chooses, cut smaller bunnies from white cotton cloth 
to form an appliqued border on a dark blue or green 
cotton square which is to be made into a quilt for 
his bed. 

SILK WINDERS. 

Materials.—Several sheets of stiff note paper or thin cardboard of 
good quality; as many pairs of scissors as players. 

In grandmother’s sewing table drawer there were 
always several of these silk winders, upon which em- 


GAMES FOR AMUSEMENT. 


283 


broidery silks and cottons were wound. Often she 
would teach her little grandchildren to fashion them 
of cardboard or heavy writing paper. Children of 
today will enjoy making them and mothers will find 
them a useful addition to their work-baskets. Four 
pieces of paper or card are cut like Fig. 14, measuring 



two and a half inches from one dotted line to another 
and the same distance from side to side. Bend the 
edges of each back at the dotted lines and cut a slit 
an inch long in the center of each doubled side of two 
of the pieces. The other two pieces are now put to¬ 
gether by running one of the turned-over edges down 
into the slot made by the ends of the two doubled 
edges on the other piece and doing the same on the 
opposite end, thus making a square with the raw 
edges within it. Over one corner of the square, slip 
a slit in one of the other pieces and the corner diagon¬ 
ally opposite is slipped through the opposite slit. 
Then turn the winder over and repeat the process 
with the fourth piece of paper, only running the slits 
over the remaining corners in the double square and 
letting the turned-over edges slip down into the slot 
made by the ends of the doubled edges in the third 
piece of paper (see Fig. 15), 







SECTION IV. 


Music, Songs and Verses. 

iVEN the child without an “ear for music” is the 
better for good music. Lucky the little fellow, 
who, lulled to sleep by sweet and sympathetic 
mother tones, carries the memory to his old age 
of the songs sung over and over at his childish request. 
It is that lucky youngster particularly—and he is 
legion—who will be stirred to better feeling by notes 
of harmony whenever he hears them in the future. 

It is not our purpose to give a selection of old 
favorites here; there is not room for them; nor would 
they meet our needs; for we wish rather to suggest 
what the child may sing for his own entertainment 
rather than what a parent may sing to the child. 

Many of the delightful old songs are written far 
above and below the childish voice; and the words 
and arrangement far from the understanding of the 
child, although the melody appeals. And it is the pur¬ 
pose of these few pages of song not only to entertain 
the children, but to give practice to their own little 
voices in the notes possible for them to attain, with 
words suited to their gentle understanding; songs that 
will be remembered and sung about the daily tasks and 
pleasures, or to the accompaniment of the piano. 

The cultivation of a taste for good music cannot 
be encouraged too early. If the child is accustomed 
to harmony and melody from the cradle song, through 
the songs of early childhood, he will instinctively 
search for and love that which is best, as he begins 
to choose for himself. It is much to be deplored that 
in many homes the children are familiar with nothing 
but “ragtime.” Why not have some classic pieces for 
your piano or phonograph and give the little ones the 
right start in appreciation of good music? 

284 





SONGS WITH MUSIC. 285 

LITTLE POLLY FLINDERS. 


E. C. Ethel Crowninshield. 




h r ] 

- 1 — — 

k s- I'. |S m 0 

( 


-^r -PV- 

-:- 1— 

— N — Pv-^ —|- h — - 

L J- m — € 4—*— 1 - V — J 


Warming her pret-ty lit - tie toes; Her mother came and caught her, And 




T . m f 9 S . 


__ 1 


k 9 , i r * J 9 

r , * 

^ J 

^ b ,r 9 

r , 0 J 

^ * 


■r— v -* ^ u rr^ 

> ! j 0 9 

• a 

tJ 

■whipp’d her lit - tie daughter, For burning up her nice new clothes. 

- _ X _ - _ X _ 

, , - r 0 * _ 

-J 1 

. j 

zw —w m —-r 

~ 0 # 

" jZL «□ 



^—\S - ^ -T- 

L * 

\ .. <s> 



! j I j 

** @2 

J 

r . 

-0- -0- 

-9- A 

it -£X X 

- • 

_ • 

I /a'N • ] — 

\ 

r 


L* J 


- 1 



- | 


L 

J . L # # 


I 

— 9 r 9 


- 1- 1— J 

L-2?’-. - lJ 


Copyright, 1907, by Milton Bradley Co. Used by permiaaion. 







































































































































286 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


SONG OF THE BUGLE. 


tJ 


W. H. N. 
mp Allegro. 


W. H. Neidlinger. 


£ 


-4-^ft- 


S 




? •* ' ? 




^^p 

When-e’er I sing my song, The sol-diers march a- long; With 




m 


m 


-* ‘ • d ■ 




f 


T 




E 


IT 


T 




I 


cresc. 


m 


3 


N—k- 


P-P-H 




5E* 






# 


* « 




# # ' # 

joyous step and with beating heart They tramp along, and I do my part: My 





-U" -V-— 


J 


»—= 1 - 


-n—*1 


£ 


-v- 


IT 



Copyright, 1905, by The Wm. Maxwell Music Co. Used by permission. 







































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


287 



glad that I am a bu - gle gay, Be-cause I can lead the way. 



i 


mp 


mf 


-N—Pv- 


0—0 


V 


Ta - ra, ta - ra, ta - ral Ta - ra, ta - ra, ta - ral Ta - 


(fi 


=fc 




0 


- 0 — 0 — — 0 — 0 - 


? - o —- c - 0-' ■ 


< 


m.p 


mf 


m 


m 




* 


1 Jr-Tl 


ll 



















































































































































288 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

THE LITTLE CHINESE BOY. 


W. H. N. W. H. Nbidlinger. 

mp Allegretto. 




: ..fN h -I—: 

vf L 4 1 1 1 

r 


f\\^4 0 0 3* a 

J J 

9 9 ‘ 72 

vT/ *4 9 

0 9 

u m 

“ Me lit - tie boy, though my 

hair look like - a girl 

'V 4 - 



/ \n ? * J J J 


—-^ * J] -jrA 

/ fCV\ v 4 & & 9 & 

J 

0 0 J 72 

1 VH7 A & 

# * 


\t) 

( mp 



I ftV 4 

L> 



\|V_^ ry A & 


\tz_z_a_ 






-f 




r - 

2 

.— 4 - m i_i 



\—P" 


"A “ 

E 

• 0 72 

9 9 0 J 



0 — 1 -fr s — 1 


L X— 9 

^ 9 

W 

sr ~h —p-1 


like mos’ ev-’v-sing, But me no like - a the kir 

r. 

‘ & 

id of song you sing. 


C — - 1 - J - 

_ 




/ /! 

n ! 0 






X 17 9 - *- A 

t2 

0 0 0 2 J 





0 0 9 

« ^ n- 

\ fJ 

9 -5- 2? 

—-- ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 

(fe 

-r r 


- w — 0 - 

<Lt+- 

» - m — m 


^ t—t— 

\ Is* 

- 

—H— 


-p'- #—10 






i i i i—r 


Copyright, 1905, by The Wm. Maxwell Music Co. Used by permission. 




















































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


289 



—--— 

s N k z 

-1-1- 

Ik Ik. 

--*- 

-------1 T — 

. W 

g 0 m 


pc 

# 0 

v #- 

0 0 — 0 )- 

- -22- 

m 

-- 0 — 0 

— 


like - a Tom-tom play-ee in a ban’, No like - a mus - ic 





/ 




—N- 


~*c~ 9 ~ 






-rl- 


play-ee in dis lan’,—Me like - a mus - ic vel- ly diff’ent way. 



i- 


- 1 - 

•■1 -1 






7 . j 










ft 


/ J j 





H 0 9 

41 

9 m 



5 ^. 

/ —~ 

:rz 0 



- -M 

-J- 

—-— 0 

— 


/ 




-f=f= 






S G>- 


-0 - 0 - 


I I * 1 



VOL. 1—19 
































































































































































290 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 




ONCE A LITTLE INDIAN GIRL. 


W. H. N. W. H. Nbidlixger. 

Larghetto, pp 



l-fck-A --- 




-~i 1 \ — -h~ 


1 


■S9 

0 m m 


>11 

ft 

w 

7A 



• j J j 

vc 

T ^F 


"9 "I 

9 9 _ 9 9 

Xj 

' ' 1 

Once a lit - tie In - dian girl By a 

O L, 1_1_1, 

\y 17 k Zi-FT ZF! Z1___J_ TTT^ _ 

/ 7 


C tr " x F——* 



9 9 m 

,] —1_1 ... J . — 

1 ft 

"V* 

7—L 




9 j J J J 

l ^ 

T =F- 


9 


9 9 9 9 

\ xJ 

PPP PP f 

T - r 

f 

• 





\ IW* 1/ i-.^F 

\ u Zi _ _ . 



— 

L Z^-2^ 

L 25 

<2 

i —. 25 



Ped. * Ped. Ped. Ped. *• 


cresc. 



} i I? U N s. 






fr 

h k 1 i i 




N* 


9 9m 

17 ^ J 1 







r r 

VC 


9 





J9 1 1 Z 

XJ 

I h 

-6> 

tee - pee sat all a - lor 

L • ‘ 1 

ie, Learn-ing how to 

1_1_J 


/ P 

^ J \ i 






ii 


V 1 






9 •- J — - 

9 - 






• 


z € 

9 _ S 



~9 


\ XJ 

—- -£5 

-£5 

ir * - 

*- • 

cresc. 

I U. 



i IR/*i 1/ *> ___ 








“25 . 

zsl 

9~ 9~^ 

‘27- 


Ped. Ped. £ 



Copyright, 1905, by The Wm. Maxwell Music Co. Used by permission. 

























































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


291 



Fed. Fed. * 




r • 

K-d 





-a* 

—-;-;- 

br m 



LT 0 0 m 



W 1 



rm 

li 

0 J a JT 

0A 


vT7 ^ 

0 r 

0 9 0 & 

9 & & Z, 


fT 

__ '1 3, ^ •’ 


hum t< 

0 h 1 

) - day: 

{Humming.) . 


’- 






-_ 

y r 

v£-fr-•—-9 

d 








J ^ 


2? 

2^ 



r 

& 

k — —4- 

W - 

1 5v' 





1 £tv 

7 






\ S^7% 7 








-Z5^ 

<2? ' 

L <2. 


— 

L S> ' —. ' 1 “* 


rit. dim. 











































































































































































































292 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 




Anna M. Pratt. 

Class. 


THE POSTMAN. 

Fanny Snow Knowlton. 


^; 


ES 


v- 


9^ 9 


=±* 


17 


1. Good morning, Mister Postman, Your bag is full, I see; I’m 

2. I’m sor-ry, Mis-ter Postman, The rain is com-ingdown; You 

3. I like to see you com-ing With let-ters ev-’ry day, I’m 


-j-1-1—H 

-1 

3- a --* 

—j-S-«- 1— I 

—p——p— 

—jj— 







i 


Postman. 




N—N 


N—K 


i i 


-3-*- 




look-ing for a let - ter, Have you an - y - thing for me? Good 
must be ver - y tir - ed. From walk-inground the town, 
sure that I should miss you If you nev - er came this way. I 



Pt 


r-f-fr-7 


-'i 


$ 


m 




-N—S-Nr 

-f-[S- 

—N 


N V 


2 




J 




— N 

C 

A 

9 9 9 

v a - 1 a 

- 9 ^ 1 



s 





9 




morn-ingl here’s a let - ter. And here’s a pa - per, too; I’ve 
Thank you ver - y kind-ly; The walk-ing is not bad. But 
can - not al- ways bring you The let - ters you would choose, But 


z:Si 

i I. .1- 

-n—-r r 

~!- 



/ is 

1 U 0 Y_j_J 

J ! 

wJ -- - - 



n s. 

I r 

T TT • 9 9 9 

9 9 1 9 

9 9 J 


1 ’ r 


1 » 

m 


9, 

-.— 

r 


f * r 

m _a 

r 

u. • 

3 

c 

1 



s 

9 






* 

- P 

T a 

# 



1 - m --- 




- 

—— 



H 1 - 1 


--i- 

lL 

hf— 


Copyright, 1898, by Milton Bradley Co, Used by permission. 










































































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


293 



THE STORY OF NIGHT. 




£ 


& 


Arr. from Carl Zei.tkr. 


IN • ^-f v 








1. When the gol-den sun has set. Then the night draws near; 

2. High o’er head the new half moon. Shines with silver light; 

3. In the home from windows bright, Lamplight sends its ray; 


i 


* 


ft 





— • 

• 





tj 




r 


r 


-Cr- 

-0r 




r 




1 


& 
























































































































































































294 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


SLEEP, LITTLE BABY OF MINE. 


With tenderness. 

PP Andantino seniplice, 


Charles Dennke. 


u u-7i ——*—k— r*- 




Pv p 

Jr ■ tt fr~3 1 r j « » 



j_M- 

- W ■■ - 1-w- 




-v — 

- 


1. Sleep, lit - tie ba - by of mine, 

2. Sleep, lit - tie ba - by of mine. 


Night and the darkness are 
Soft on your pil-low so 



-j—N-l- r 


$ 


V I* • 


pp a tempo. 




& 


v -V 



I 


* 


rail. 


a tempo. 


£ 




IS 






ba - by has noth-ing to 


fear; 

night; 


Shut, lit - tie sleep-y blue 
O lit - tie dar-ling of 








































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


295 


mf 



7f 

— 

«—f 


-1-Pi--- 






s s-^ 


~ 2 —. -r 

£ 

i=j 



- ± _*-fc» * 

* 

^ f* —1-—p- 


eyes; Dear lit - tie head, be at rest; 

mine, What can you know of the bliss, The 




rail. 




£ 




±3t 


£ 


v— V- 


$ 


Je-sus, like you, was a ba-by once too, And slept on His own mother’s 
com-fort I keep, awake and a - sleep. Because I am cer-tain of 







































































































































































































296 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


SHELL SONG. 


Edith Eldridgb. 



Moderato. 

M-p 

——< *r. 

+0 


K5 tr. 

Mj' &J-, 

- i - 

\ fJ 

F B 

40 . 

x*- 

> 

_J 

j 9 0 

— 0 - 

• 

i * J 

) ■ r 

1 S55&TT-4?-=r- 

r 

m 


\ 0=43 * 

\l-<-#-- 

-- 

s 








-fr- 

yr ■ -H 

ILP . Y N 


N. &dg ^ 

ten 


\ m J - 1 

I l"~ j 

P r 9 0 

> 

-:- 

0 * # 

L —^ A - 

L J— / - 


1. Down beneath the wa-ter lay a lit - tie shell, To a piece of 

2. Till one day in win-ter, storm-y grew the sky. Loudly called the 

3. From its moth-er o-cean, from the shin-ing sand, Was the sea-shell 



iJ- 

1 

- ~ j TT 

pi PI ! 

iii 

• w 

— # 

9 0 

— J ^ ^ - 

9 

{: 

T —<» 

— #-# — <-#- 

r i ✓ 


V 

y Nr* 

! Tr v» 


fj 


<? * r i T# ~ 

J . J 

h- * ri 

_^_i _ t 

/Syr 7* 




5 ^ n* 5 

0 




<0 

4# t 

0 


A W N 




N 

U 3 . P 

N v 


_AFtfS __ J ’_I'' s s 

/ 11 N J , 



- 


w=^ 

— # 





cor-al fastened firm and well. Sea-weed grew a-bout it, fish - es 
North wind, and the waves ran high, Till the shell was loosened, lift-ed 
car-ried by a child - ish hand. Tho’ from home the seashell has been 






































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


297 



A-? 








-* - * s * — 

wand-ered by. Moth - er o - cean ev - er sang a lul - la - by. 
up at last, And a lit - tie wand’rer on the shore was cast, 
part - ed long, Still it loves its moth-er, still it sings her song. 



RAIN SONG. 


J. M. Furbbr. 

























































































































































































298 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD 


A LITTLE BIRD. 


AlCNA B. TUCKSR. 






■ 4 -- 

j, 


—i- 

-^ 



' # .d 

-* * f + 9 

• -4“:* 

JJ 

• 

z — c ^—— 

^ v — 

* 



song was ver - y soft and low, and sweet as it could 

with a mod - est dark-brown coat, he made no show at 























































































































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


299 





























































































































































































































300 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


THE LITTLE PLANT. 




P Andantino. 


Anna B. Tucker. 

A 


m 


?=t 






In the heart of a seed, buried deep, deep, deep, A dear lit - tie 





P 




fv—K 


*=*= r 




“Wake,” said the voice of the raindrops bright, The little plant heard,and it 



















































































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


301 


& 


cresc. 


dim. 




g 


e 




rose to see. What the won-der-ful out - side world might be. 


i 




s 


#—*—-j 


cresc. 


j 

dim. 


i 


i 




#- 




THE BUSY BEE. 


1H 

tJ 




fczfe: 






N 


> ^ 


£ 


! J 




r r ^'f7f 

1. I’m a lit-tie bus-y bee, Roaming in the clo - ver; Here I go, 

2. I’m a lit - tie bus-y bee. In the meadows roaming, All the day, 

3. When the morning dries the dew From the blooming clover. Off I swing. 


f—=r—2 —h- 

-#—h—1— 

5— 

- - # 

A 




1 ^ 

-V- 

—b-p- 


=£=±H— 


Chorus. 



5-F- 

-*-v-K—f' 

— tZT. 


1 


j 


J \ J J 



V N. K !y- 

\P J 


v d—r~ 

9 h ^9 

9 m 

L J| — j| 

J--J 


1—d— # 

V - 

9 \ 

LJ J J J 

as — 


there I g 
bright and ga 
sweet to bn 

* 

o, All the meadows 
,y, Where the flow’rs are 
ng. Till the day is 

0 -)*- -j*- 

o - ver. 
blooming, 
o - ver. 

- Don’t you hear me singing so. 


\« MB 


to 


if* 

p 



r. m —“— 



f L—- 

i'S 



-T——1 

nc?— r— v 

b ^ 






l Wi b — — ' 


-1- 


4/-1— 




































































































































































































302 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


CHRISTMAS SONG. 


Eugene Field. Anna B. Tucker. 

m f Andante. 



m 


. .. ... A 

-1 — 

2 

Wmm 1!' 

* / *| 

m 0 m 

r 

J ! r 

c 


* rr ! d # A 1 

f r 


m • 9 & 

V 

J 0 • ~ 

L 


_ 

d 


1 r——— 

Why do bells for Christ-mas ring? Why do lit - tie 

. . J_L 1 , N i J 


j. -s zn 

J 4 


r r ^ 

/ vr ^ 

7 * 


J C - 


j 4 


* \ j 


2 J 

J ^ 

9 • m 9 

VT 7 i 

<• 9 n 

^ i 



/f 

x ^ - 

j ! ! 1 

r * r 

L_ 1 _ 1 


I 7 m 

XalL 


J 

: 





i O J N» * N* 


j 

*i V* J 




—1—h ‘ 


— 1 


■- -L -*-’ 

L — i 

1 - 

t 

^ — ~— 3 

































































































































































































SONGS WITH MUSIC. 


303 



til its light, Made a man- ger era - die bright, 
sang and smiled, “ This is Christ the Ho - Iy Child, 





Christ - mas ring, There - fore lit - tie chil - dren sing. 










































































































































































































304 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


THE LIGHTHOUSE. 


Grace P. Nash. 
Moderate). 


Ethel Henderson Hurd. 



1. Look far a - cross 
fi. An is - land— but 

S. It bids the sail 

4. And when the fog 

5. And thro’ the fog 

4= 












—0 -—j- a - 0 - - 

What is that ti - ny speck I see,.... 
I see a light-house strong and tall,... 
For ma-nya rag-ged rock is there,.. 

The great fog bell swings to and fro,. 

He safe - ly steers his boat a - way,... 


Our tel - e - 
And high on 
And o’er their 
The sail - or 
And thanks the 




scopes we need to try,. 

top a gleaming light. 

tops the bil-lows sweep,., 
hears its voice so strong,., 
keep - er who so well,. 


Why—’tis an is - land that I spy. 
Shines far a- cross the waves at night. 
And up their sides the white waves creep. 
Ding dong,ding dong,ding dong,ding dong. 
Takes care of warn-ing light and bell. 



0 ® 




F 




i 


-S- 






-i9 








i 


■&- 


Copyright, 1906, by Milton Bradley Company. Used by permission. 


































































































































































































VERSES. 


305 


A Thought 

It is very nice to think 

The world is full of meat and drink, 

With little children saying grace 
In every Christian kind of place. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 


To the Lady-Bird. 

Lady-bird ! lady-bird ! fly away home: 

The field-mouse has gone to her nest, 

The daisies have shut up their sleepy red eyes. 

And the bees and the birds are at rest. 

Lady-bird ! lady-bird! fly away home: 

The glow-worm is lighting her lamp, 

The dew’s falling fast, and your fine speckled wings 
Will flag with the close-clinging damp. 

Lady-bird! lady-bird ! fly away home: 

Good luck if you reach it at last! 

The owl’s come abroad, and the bat’s on the roam, 
Sharp set from their Ramazan fast. 

Lady-bird! lady-bird! fly away home: 

The fairy bells tinkle afar! 

Make haste, or they’ll catch you, and harness you fast 
With a cobweb to Oberon’s car. 

Lady-bird ! lady-bird! fly away home 
To your house in the old willow-tree, 

Where your children so dear have invited the ant 
And a few cosy neighbors to tea. 

Lady-bird ! lady-bird ! fly away home: 

And if not gobbled up by the way, 

JSTor yoked by the fairies to Oheron’s car, 

You’re in luck—and that’s all I’ve to say. 

Mrs. Southey. 


VOL. 1—20 


306 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Whole Duty of Children. 

A child should always say what’s true 
And speak when he is spoken to, 

And behave mannerly at table; 

At least as far as he is able. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 


Good-Night and Good-Morning. 

A fair little girl sat under a tree 
Sewing as long as her eyes could see; 

Then smoothed her work and folded it right. 

And said, “Dear work, good-night, good-night!” 

Such a number of rooks came over her head 
Crying, “Caw, caw!” on their way to bed; 

She said, as she watched their curious flight, 

“Little black things, good-night, good-night!” 

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed; 

The sheep’s “Bleat, bleat!” came over the road. 

All seeming to say, with a quiet delight, 

“Good little girl, good-night, good-night!” 

She did not say to the sun, “Good-night!” 

Though she saw him there like a ball of light; 

For she knew he had God’s own time to keep 
All over the world, and never could sleep. 

The tall, pink Fox-glove bowed his head, 

The Violets curtsied, and went to bed; 

And good little Lucy tied up her hair, 

And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer. 

And while on her pillow she softly lay, 

She knew nothing more till again it was day, 

And all things said to the beautiful sun, 
“Good-morning, good-morning! our work is begun.” 

Richard Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton.) 



FORGOTTEN AND ALONE.”—Exposed to all the terrors of life. 












VERSES. 


307 


Rain. 

The rain is raining all around, 

It falls on field and tree, 

It rains on the umbrellas here, 

And on the ships at sea. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 

Baby. 

Where did you come from, baby dear? 

Out of the everywhere into the here. 

Where did you get those eyes so blue? 

Out of the sky as I came through. 

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? 
Some of the starry spikes left in. 

Where did you get that little tear? 

I found it waiting when I got here. 

What makes your forehead so smooth and high? 

A soft hand stroked it as I went by. 

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? 

I saw something better than any one knows. 

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss ? 

Three angels gave me at once a kiss. 

Where did you get this pearly ear? 

God spoke, and it came out to hear. 

Where did you get those arms and hands? 

Love made itself into bonds and bands. 

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? 
From the same box as the cherub’s wings. 

How did they all just come to be you? 

God thought about me, and so I grew. 

But how did you come to us, you dear? 

God thought about you, and so I am here. 

George MacDonald. 


308 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Lost Doll. 

I once had a sweet little doll, dears, 

The prettiest doll in the world; 

Her cheeks were so red and white, dears, 

And her hair was so charmingly curled. 

And I lost my poor little doll, dears. 

As I played on the heath one day; 

And I cried for her more than a week, dears, 

But I never could find where she lay. 

I found my poor little doll, dears. 

As I played on the heath one day; 

Folks say she is terribly changed, dears, 

For her paint is all washed away, 

And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears, 

And her hair not the least bit curled; 

Yet for old sake’s sake, she is still, dears. 

The prettiest doll in the world. 

Charles Kingsley. 

The Land of Counterpane. 

When I was sick and lay a-bed, 

I had two pillows at my head, 

And all my toys beside me lay 
To keep me happy all the day. 

And sometimes for an hour or so 
I watched my leaden soldier go, 

With different uniforms and drills, 

Among the bed-clothes, through the hills; 

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets 
All up and down among the sheets; 

Or brought my trees and houses out, 

And planted cities all about. 

I was the giant great and still 
That sits upon the pillow-hill, 

And sees before him, dale and plain, 

The pleasant land of counterpane. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 


VERSES. 


309 


My Country, ’Tis of Thee. 

My country, ’tis of thee, 

Sweet land of liberty. 

Of thee I sing; 

Land where my fathers died, 

Land of the Pilgrims’ pride, 

From every mountain-side, 

Let freedom ring. 

My native country, thee, 

Land of the noble free. 

Thy name I love; 

I love thy rocks and rills, 

Thy woods and templed hills; 

My heart with rapture thrills 
Like that above. 

Let music swell the breeze, 

And ring from all the trees 
Sweet freedom’s song; 

Let mortal tongues awake; 

Let all that breathe partake; 

Let rocks their silence break— 

The sound prolong. 

Our fathers’ God, to Thee, 

Author of liberty, 

To Thee we sing; 

Long may our land be bright 
With freedom’s holy light; 

Protect us by Thy might. 

Great God, our King. 

Samuel Francis Smith. 

Time to Rise. 

A birdie with a yellow bill 
Hopped upon the window-sill. 

Cocked his shining eye and said, 

“Ain’t you ’shamed, you sleepy-head!” 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 


310 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Bed in Summer. 

In winter I get up at night 
And dress by yellow candle-light. 

In summer, quite the other way, 

I have to go to bed by day. 

I have to go to bed and see 
The birds still hopping on the tree. 

Or hear the grown-up people’s feet 
Still going past me in the street. 

And does it not seem hard to you, 

When all the sky is clear and blue, 

And I should like so much to play, 

To have to go to bed by day? 

Kobert Louis Stevenson. 


Baby Seed Song. 

Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, 
Are you awake in the dark? 

Here we lie cosily, close to each other: 

Hark to the song of the lark— 

“Waken!” the lark says, “waken and dress you, 
Put on your green coats and gay, 

Blue sky will shine on you, sunshine caress you— 
Waken! ’tis morning—’tis May!” 

Little brown brother, oh! little brown brother, 
What kind of flower will you be? 

I’ll be a poppy—all white, like my mother; 

Do be a poppy like me. 

What! you’re a sun-flower ? How I shall miss you 
When you’re grown golden and high, 

But I shall send all the bees up to kiss you; 
Little brown brother, good-bye. 


E. Nesbit. 


VERSES. 


311 


Thank You, Pretty Cow. 

Thank yon, pretty cow, that made 
Pleasant milk to soak my bread, 

Every day and every night, 

Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white. 

Do not chew the hemlock rank, 

Growing on the weedy bank; 

But the yellow cowslip eat, 

That will make it very sweet. 

Where the purple violet grows, 

Where the bubbling water flows, 

Where the grass is fresh and fine, 

Pretty cow, go there and dine. 

Jane Taylor. 

The Pedler’s Caravan. 

I wish I lived in a caravan, 

With a horse to drive, like a pedler-man! 

Where he comes from nobody knows, 

Or where he goes to, but on he goes! 

His caravan has windows two, 

And a chimney of tin, that the smoke comes through; 
He has a wife, with a baby brown, 

And they go riding from town to town. 

Chairs to mend, and delf to sell! 

He clashes the basins like a bell; 

Tea-trays, baskets ranged in order, 

Plates with the alphabet round the border! 

The roads are brown, and the sea is green, 

But his house is just like a bathing-machine; 

The world is round, and he can ride, 

Rumble and splash, to the other side! 

With the pedler-man I should like to roam, 

And write a book when I came home; 

All the people would read my book, 

Just like the Travels of Captain Cook! 

William Brighty Rands. 


312 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Lullaby of an Infant Chief. 

Oh, hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight. 

Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; 

The woods and the glens from the tower we see. 

They are all belonging, dear baby, to thee. 

Oh, fear not the bugle: though loudly it blows, 

It calls but the wardens that guard thy repose; 

Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red. 
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed. 

Oh, hush thee, my baby, the time will soon come. 

When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum; 
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, 

For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day. 

Sir Walter Scott. 

Sweet and Low. 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the western sea, 

Low, low, breathe and blow, 

Wind of the western sea! 

Over the rolling waters go. 

Come from the dying moon, and blow, 

Blow him again to me; 

While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. 

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, 

Father will come to thee soon; 

Rest, rest, on mother’s breast, 

Father will come to thee soon; 

Father will come to his babe in the nest. 

Silver sails all out of the west 
Under the silver moon; 

Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson. 

Happy Thought. 

The world is so full of a number of things, 

I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 


VERSES. 


313 


The Miller of Dee. 

There dwelt a miller, hale and bold, 

Beside the river Dee; 

He worked and sang from morn till night. 
No lark more blithe than he; 

And this the burden of his song 
Forever used to be, 

“I envy nobody—no, not I, 

And nobody envies me.” 

“Thou’rt wrong, my friend. 

As wrong as wrong can be; 

For could my heart be light as thine, 

I’d gladly change with thee. 

And tell me now, what makes thee sing. 

With voice so loud and free. 

While I am sad, though Fm the King, 
Beside the river Dee.” 

The miller smiled and doffed his cap, 

“I earn my bread,” quoth he; 

“I love my wife, I love my friend, 

I love my children three; 

I owe no penny I can not pay; 

I thank the river Dee 

That turns the mill that grinds the corn 
That feeds my babies and me.” 

“Good friend,” said Hal, and sighed the while, 
“Farewell, and happy be; 

But say no more, if thou’dst be true, 

That no one envies thee. 

Thy mealy cap is worth my crown; 

Thy mill, my kingdom’s fee; 

Such men as thou are England’s boast, 

O Miller of the Dee.” 


Charles Mackay. 


314 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


A Visit from St. Nicholas 

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house 
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. 

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, 

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds. 

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; 

And Mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, 

Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap— 

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter 
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. 

Away to the window I flew like a flash, 

Tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash. 

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow 
Gave a lustre of mid-day to objects below; 

When what to my wondering eyes should appear 
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick, 

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick! 

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, 

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name: 
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! 

On Comet! on, Cupid ! on, Donner and Blitzen !— 

To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, 

Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!” 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly. 

When they met with an obstacle, mount to the sky, 

So, up to the housetop the coursers they flew, 

With a sleigh full of toys and St. Nicholas, too. 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof 
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. 

As I drew in my head, and was turning around, 

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound: 

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, 

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot: 

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, 

And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack. 

His eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! 

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry ; 

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow. 

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow. 



A French Dressing-table for a little girl, with everything complete as for a “grown-up” person. 
A Golden Crib: a King’s gift to an American baby. 















VERSES. 


315 


The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 

And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath. 

He had a broad face and a little round belly 

That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. 

He was chubby and plump—a right jolly old elf, 

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; 

A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, 

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work. 

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk. 

And laying his finger aside of his nose, 

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle. 

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. 

But I heard him exclaim, ere they drove out of sight, 
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!” 

Clement C. Moore. 


My Bed is a Boat. 

My bed is like a little boat; 

Nurse helps me in when I embark; 

She girds me in my sailors coat 
And starts me in the dark. 

At night, I go on board and say 

Good-night to all my friends on shore; 

I shut my eyes and sail away 
And see and hear no more. 

And sometimes things to bed I take, 

As prudent sailors have to do; 

Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake. 

Perhaps a toy or two. 

All night across the dark we steer; 

But when the day returns at last, 

Safe in my room, beside the pier, 

I find my vessel fast. 

Robert Louts Stevenson. 


316 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The Star. 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, 

How I wonder what you are! 

Up above the world so high, 

Like a diamond in the sky. 

When the blazing sun is gone, 

When he nothing shines upon. 

Then you show your little light. 
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. 

Then the traveller in the dark 
Thanks you for your tiny spark: 

He could not see which way to go. 
If you did not twinkle so. 

In the dark-blue sky you keep, 

And often through my curtains peep, 
For you never shut your eye 
Till the sun is in the sky. 

As your bright and tiny spark 
Lights the traveller in the dark. 
Though I know not what you are. 
Twinkle, twinkle, little star! 


The Owl and the Pussy-Cat. 

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat w^ent to sea 
In a beautiful pea-green boat; 

They took some honey, and plenty of money 
Wrapped up in a five-pound note. 

The Owl looked up to the moon above, 

And sang to a small guitar: 

“0 lovely Pussy! 0 Pussy, my love. 

What a beautiful Pussy you are, 

You are. 

You are! 

What a beautiful Pussy you are!” 


VERSES. 


317 


Pussy said to the Owl: “You elegant fowl. 

How charmingly sweet you sing! 

Oh, let us be married—too long we have tarried— 
But what shall we do for a ring?” 

They sailed away for a year and a day 
To the land where the bong tree grows; 

And there in a wood, a piggy-wig stood 
With a ring at the end of his nose. 

His nose, 

His nose. 

With a ring at the end of his nose. 

“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling 
Your ring?” Said the piggy, “I will.” 

So they took it away, and were married next day 
By the turkey who lives on the hill. 

They dined upon mince and slices of quince, 

Which they ate with a runcible spoon. 

And hand in hand on the edge of the sand 
They danced by the light of the moon, 

The moon. 

The moon. 

They danced by the light of the moon. 

Edward Lear. 


Meddlesome Matty. 

One ugly trick has often spoiled 
The sweetest and the best; 
Matilda, though a pleasant child, 

One ugly trick possessed. 

Which, like a cloud before the skies, 
Hid all her better qualities. 

Sometimes she’d lift the teapot lid, 

To peep at what was in it; 

Or tilt the kettles if you did 
But turn your back a minute. 

In vain you told her not to touch, 

Her trick of meddling grew so much. 


318 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Her grandmamma went out one day. 

And by mistake she laid 

Her spectacles and snuff-box gay 
To near the little maid; 

“Ah! well/’ thought she, “I’ll try them on, 
As soon as Grandmamma is gone.” 

Forthwith she placed upon her nose 
The glasses large and wide; 

And looking round, as I suppose. 

The snuff-box too she spied: 

“Oh! what a pretty box is that; 

I’ll open it,” said little Matt. 

“I know that Grandmamma would say, 
Don’t meddle with it, dear! 

But then, she’s far enough away, 

And no one else is near: 

Besides, what can there be amiss 

In opening such a box as this?” 

So thumb and finger went to work 
To move the stubborn lid, 

And presently a mighty jerk 
The mighty mischief did; 

For all at once, ah, woful case! 

The snuff came puffing in her face. 

Poor eyes and nose, and mouth beside, 

A dismal sight presented; 

In vain, as bitterly she cried, 

Her folly she repented. 

In vain she ran about for ease; 

She could do nothing now but sneeze. 

She dashed the spectacles away. 

To wipe her tingling eyes. 

And as in twenty bits they lay, 

Her grandmamma she spies. 

“Heyday! and what’s the matter now ?” 

Says Grandmamma with lifted brow. 


VERSES. 


319 


Matilda, smarting with the pain. 

And tingling still, and sore. 

Made many a promise to refrain 
From meddling evermore. 

And ’tis a fact, as I have heard, 

She ever since has kept her word. 

Ann Taylor. 


A Lobster Quadrille. 

“Will yon walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, 

“There’s a porpoise close behind ns, and he’s treading on my tail. 

See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! 

They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the 
dance? 

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the 
dance ? 

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the 
dance ? 

“You can really have no notion how delightful it will be 

When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to 
sea!” 

But the snail replied, “Too far, too far!” and gave a look 
askance— 

Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the 
dance. 

Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join 
the dance. 

Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join 
the dance. 

“What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied, 

“There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. 

The further off from England the nearer is to France— 

Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. 

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the 
dance ? 

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the 
dance ?” 


Lewis Carroll. 


320 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Marjorie’s Almanac.* 

Robins in the tree-top. 

Blossoms in the grass, 

Green things a-growing 
Everywhere you pass; 

Sudden little breezes. 

Showers of silver dew, 

Black bough and bent twig 
Budding out anew; 

Pine-tree and willow-tree, 

Fringed elm and larch. 

Don’t you think that May-time’s 
Pleasanter than March? 

Apples in the orchard 
Mellowing one by one; 
Strawberries upturning 
Soft cheeks to the sun; 

Roses faint with sweetness, 

Lilies fair of face. 

Drowsy scents and murmurs 
Haunting every place; 

Lengths of golden sunshine. 
Moonlight bright as day. 

Don’t you think that summer’s 
Pleasanter than May? 

Roger in the corn-patch 
Whistling negro songs; 

Pussy by the hearth-side 
Romping with the tongs; 
Chestnuts in the ashes 
Bursting through the rind; 

Red leaf and gold leaf 
Rustling down the wind; 
Mother “doin’ peaches” 

All the afternoon, 

Don’t you think that autumn’s 
Pleasanter than June? 


♦Copyright by Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, Mass. 



VERSES. 


321 


Little fairy snow-flakes 
Dancing in the flue; 

Old Mr. Santa Claus, 

What is keeping you? 

Twilight and firelight 
Shadows come and go; 

Merry chime of sleigh-bells 
Tinkling through the snow; 

Mother knitting stockings 
(Pussy’s got the ball), 

Don’t you think that winter’s 
Pleasanter than all? 

Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 


Answer to a Child’s Question. 

Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove, 
The linnet, and thrush say, “I love and I love!” 

In the winter they’re silent, the wind is so strong; 

What it says I don’t know, but it sings a loud song. 

But green leaves and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, 
And singing and loving, all come back together; 

Then the lark is so brimful of gladness and love, 

The green fields below him, the blue sky above, 

That he sings, and he sings, and forever sings he, 

“I love my Love, and my Love loves me.” 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 


What Does Little Birdie Say ? 

What does little birdie say, 

In her nest at peep of day ? 

“Let me fly,” says little birdie, 
“Mother, let me fly away.” 

Birdie, rest a little longer, 

Till the little wings are stronger. 

So she rests a little longer. 

Then she flies away. 


VOL. 1—21 


322 


THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


What does little baby say, 

In her bed at peep of day? 

Baby says, like little birdie, 

“Let me rise and fly away.” 

Baby, sleep a little longer, 

Till the little limbs are stronger. 

If she sleeps a little longer. 

Baby, too, shall fly away. 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson. 


Little Orphant Annie.* 

Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay, 

An’ wash the cups an’ saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away, 
An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ 
sweep, 

An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’-keep; 
An’ all us other children, when the supper things is done, 

We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun 
A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ’at Annie tells about, 

An’ the Gobble-uns ’at gits you 
Ef you 
Don’t 
Watch 
Out! 

Onc’t they was a little boy wouldn’t say his prayers, 

An’ when he went to bed at night, away up stairs, 

His Mammy heerd him holler, an’ his Daddy heerd him bawl, 
An’ when they turn’t the kivvers down, he wasn’t there at all! 
An’ they seeked him in the rafter-room, an’ cubby-hole, an’ press, 
An’ seeked him up the chimbley-flue, an’ ever’wheres, I guess; 
But all they ever found was thist his pants an’ roundabout: 

An’ the Gobble-uns ’ll git you 
Ef you 
Don’t 
Watch 
Out! 

*From Child Rhymes, by .Tames Whitcomb Riley. Copyright, 
1899. Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs- 
Merrill Co. 



VERSES. 


323 


An’ one time a little girl ud alius laugh and grin, 

An’ make fun of ever'one, an’ all her blood an’ kin; 

An’ onc’t when they was “company,” an’ ole folks was there, 
She mocked ’em an’ shocked ’em, an’ said she didn’t care! 
An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to run an’ hide, 
They was two big Black Things a’standin’ by her side. 

An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ’fore she knowed what 
she’s about! 

An’ the Gobble-uns ’ll git you 
Ef you 
Don’t 
Watch 
Out! 

An’ little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue, 

An’ the lamp-wick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo! 

An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray, 

An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is all squenched away, 

You better mind your parents, an’ yer teachers fond an’ dear, 
An’ churish them ’at loves you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear, 

An’ he’p the pore an’ needy ones ’at clusters all about— 

Er the Gobble-uns ’ll git you 
Ef you 
Don’t 
Watch 

Out! James Whitcomb Riley. 

The Raggedy Man. 

0 the Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa; 

An’ he’s the goodest man ever you saw! 

He comes to our house every day. 

An’ waters the horses, an’ feeds ’em hay; 

An’ he opens the shed—an’ we all ist laugh 
When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf; 

An’ nen-ef our hired girl says he can— 

He milks the cow fer ’Lizabuth Ann. 

Ain’t he a’ awful good Raggedy Man? 

Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man ! 

*From Child Rhymes, by James Whitcomb Riley. Copyright, 
1899. Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs- 

Merrill Co. 



324 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 

* 

W’y, The Raggedy Man—he’s ist so good 
He splits the kindlin’ an’ chops the wood; 

An’ nen he spades in our garden, too. 

An’ does most things ’at boys can’t do. 

He clumbed clean up in our big tree 
An’ shooked a’ apple down for me— 

An’ nother’n, too, fer ’Lizabuth Ann— 

An’ nother’n, too, fer The Raggedy Man. 

Ain’t he a’ awful kind Raggedy Man? 

Raggedy! Raggedy ! Raggedy Man ! 

An’ The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes 
An’ tells ’em, ef I be good, sometimes: 

Knows ’bout Giunts, an’ Griffuns, an’ Elves, 

An’ the Squidgicum-Squees ’at swallers therselves! 
An’, wite by the pump in our pasture-lot. 

He showed me the hole ’at the Wunks is got, 

’At lives ’way deep in the ground, an’ can 
Turn into me, er ’Lizabuth Ann! 

Ain’t he a funny old Raggedy Man? 

Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 

The Raggedy Man—one time when he 
Was makin’ a little bow-’n-orry fer me, 

Says, “When you’re big like your Pa is, 

Air you go’ to keep a fine store like his— 

An’ be a rich merchunt—an’ wear fine clothes? 

Er what air you go’ to be, goodness knows!” 

An’ nen he laughed at ’Lizabuth Ann, 

An’ I says, “ ’M go’ to be a Raggedy Man! 

I’m ist go’ to be a nice Raggedy Man!” 

Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man ! 

James Whitcomb Riley. 



VERSES. 


325 


The Man in the Moon.* 

Said the Raggedy Man, on a hot afternoon: 

“My! 

Sakes! 

What a lot o’ mistakes 

Some little folks makes on The Man in the Moon! 

But people that’s be’n up to see him, like me. 

And calls on him frequent and intimuttly, 

Might drop a few facts that would interest you 
Clean! 

Through! 

If you wanted ’em to— 

Some actual facts that might interest you! 

“0 The Man in the Moon has a crick in his back; 

Whee! 

Whimm! 

Ain’ you sorry for him? 

And a mole on his nose that is purple and black; 

And his eyes are so weak that they water and run 
If he dares to dream even he looks at the sun, 

So he jes dreams of stars, as the doctors advise— 

My! 

Eyes! 

But isn’t he wise— 

To jes dream of stars, as the doctors advise? 

“And The Man in the Moon has a boil on his ear— 

Whee! 

Whing! 

What a singular thing! 

I know! but these facts are authentic, my dear. 

There’s a boil on his ear; and a corn on his chin— 

He calls it a dimple—but dimples stick in; 

Yet it might be a dimple turned over, you know! 

Whang! 

Ho! 

Why, certainly so! 

It might be a dimple turned over, you know! 

*From Child Rhymes, by James Whitcomb Riley. Copyright, 
1899. Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs- 

Merrill Co. 



326 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“And The Man in the Moon has a rheumatic knee— 

Gee! 

Whizz! 

What a pity that is! 

And his toes have worked round where his heels ought to be. 
So whenever he wants to go north he goes south, 

And comes back with porridge-crumbs all round his mouth, 
And he brushes them off with a Japanese fan, 

Whing! 

Whann! 

What a marvellous man! 

What a very remarkably marvelous man! 

“And The Man in the Moon,” sighed The Raggedy Man, 
“Gits! 

So! 

Sullonesome, you know— 

TTp there by hisse’f sence creation began! 

That when I call on him and then come away, 

He grabs me and holds me and begs me to stay, 

Till— Well! if it wasn’t fer Jimmy-cum-jim, 

Dadd! 

Limb! 

I’d go pardners with him— 

Jes jump my job here and be pardners with him!” 

James Whitcomb Riley. 

i i 

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.* 

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night 
Sailed off in a wooden shoe— 

Sailed on a river of crystal light, 

Into a sea of dew. 

“Where are you going, and what do you wish?” 

The old moon asked the three. 

“We have come to fish for the herring fish 
That live in this beautiful sea ; 

Nets of silver and gold have we!” 

Said Wynken, 

Blynken, 

And Nod. 

* From A Little Book of Western Verse. Copyright, 1889, bv Eugene 
Field; published by Charles Scribner’s Sons. 



VERSES. 


327 


The old moon laughed and sang a song, 

As they rocked in the wooden shoe, 

And the wind that sped them all night long 
Buffled the waves of dew. 

The little stars were the herring fish 
That lived in that beautiful sea— 

“Now cast your nets wherever you wish— 

Never afeard are we;” 

So cried the stars to the fishermen three: 

Wynken, 

Blynken, 

And Nod. 

All night long their nets they threw. 

To the stars in the twinkling foam— 

Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe. 
Bringing the fishermen home; 

’T was all so pretty a sail, it seemed 
As if it could not be, 

And some folks thought ’t was a dream they’d dreamed 
Of sailing that beautiful sea— 

But I shall name you the fishermen three: 

Wynken, 

Blynken, 

And Nod. 

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, 

And Nod is a little head. 

And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies 
Is a wee one’s trundle-bed. 

So shut your eyes while mother sings 
Of wonderful sights that be, 

And you shall see the beautiful things 
As you rock in the misty sea, 

Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: 
Wynken, 

Blynken, 

And Nod. 


Eugene Field. 


SECTION V. 

Handwork for the Little Ones. 


Part I. 

Play. 


Flying Butterflies, Birds, and Aeroplanes 

Made of Paper. 

FLYING BUTTERFLIES. 

HINK of it children! Yellow butterflies, white 
butterflies, purple, brown and green butterflies; 
soaring, darting, fluttering up and down, back 
and forth by the simple movement of your fairy wand. 

They are not real, these butterflies, but are made of 
paper, and the fairy wand is only a slender stick or 
cane to which they are tied by threads. But they look 
very real and seem very much alive as they float 
lightly in the air, raising and lowering their wings in 
a most natural manner. 

You can play with them as you can not with the real 
butterflies, and you can pretend to feed them with 
sugar and can give each a pretty name. The green one 
you might call Luna, for that is not only pretty, but is 
the real name of a beautiful green moth that flies only 
at night, and is called the Luna moth. 

When the cold winter winds are blowing and the 
ground is covered with snow; when the real butterflies 
are waiting for warm weather, wrapped in their blan- 
ets and sound asleep in their swinging cradles called 
cocoons, the paper butterflies will flutter gaily through 

328 






HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 329 


the house and make it seem like summer indoors, no 
matter what the weather may be out of doors. 

Are you wondering where you can find these pretty 
playthings ? Why, you are to make them of course. If 
you don’t quite understand how to do it at first ask 
mother to help you, or sister, or teacher. 



Cut an oblong like this In the Butterfly. 



The first oblong folded 
looks like this. 



corner. 


To begin with you must have some smooth tissue 
paper. White, blue, brown, green, purple, and yellow 
are nice to use because they are the colors of real but¬ 
terflies. Cut the tissue paper into oblong pieces like 
Fig. 1. The figures at the edges of the oblong Fig. 1, 
tell just the size the paper should be, measured by 
’nches, but if you are a little boy or girl not more than 
,i x or seven years old you may measure your paper 
in this way. Make the two long edges of your oblong 




















330 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


twice the length of your middle or longest finger, and 
the two short edges of your oblong twice the length of 
your little finger. 

When you have cut five or six oblongs like Fig. 1 
from different colored tissue papers, fold one oblong 
through the middle where you see the dotted line in 
Fig. 1. The way to do this is to bring the two short 



The Paper Butterfly is tied to the Stick. 


edges evenly together, then flatten the paper down and 
the fold will be directly through the middle. This will 
make a double oblong like Fig. 2. Turn down one sin¬ 
gle, upper corner where you see the dotted line on Fig. 
2 and your paper will look like Fig. 3. Turn down the 
other single, upper corner just as you did the first but 
fold the second corner over the other side of the ob¬ 
long, then your paper will look like Fig. 4. With a 






HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 331 


soft lead pencil draw the scalloped line on the lower 
part of your paper like that shown in Fig. 4. Make one 
large scallop for the wings of the butterfly and half 
of a small scallop, or point, for the body. Make the 
point at the folded edge of the paper. Cut out along 
your scalloped line and you will have your butterfly. 
It will not fly though until you have fastened a thread 
to it and have put a pin in its body. 



The Butterflies Look Alive. 

Thread a needle with black 
thread (black thread will not 
show like white), and tie a big 
knot in the end of the thread, 
then push the needle through the 
fold from the underside of the 
butterfly near the point, or head, 
and let it come out through the 
middle of the back where the top 
of the head should be. The underside of the butterfly 
is where the points are turned over (Fig. 5). Draw 
the thread up until the knot touches the butterfly, then 
run a pin in and out near the head of the butterfly. 
Fig. 5 shows where to put the pin. Spread the wings 
open now and crease them down where you see the 
dotted line in Fig. 5, one wing on one side of the but¬ 
terfly, the other wing on the other side of the butterfly. 
Slip the needle off the thread and tie the free end of 












332 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


the thread to a little cane or a light stick as you see it 
in Fig. 6. The thread should be almost as long as your 
arm if you are a small girl or boy. When you have 
made all your butterflies tie them to the stick, not too 
close together, and have some threads longer, some 
shorter, than the first thread. 

Now take the end of the stick, or wand, in your hand 
and holding it out straight before you move it back 
and forth. Do not start too suddenly nor move it too 



fast, but move it gently and the butterflies will begin 
to fly first one way then the other. At a little distance 
the black threads that tie them to the stick will not 
show, and they will look as if they were flying as real 
butterflies fly. 

Walk across the room and the butterflies will fol¬ 
low you, lower your wand then raise it again and they 
will dart about as li they were playing among them¬ 
selves. . Hold the wand out of the window, or fake the 
butterflies out of doors when a gentle breeze is blowing 

and they will flutter and fly while you keep the wand 
perfectly still. 








HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 


O Q O 
OOu 


FLYING BIRDS. 

You can make not only butterflies of the colored 
tissue paper, but birds as well. Birds that will fly from 
your hand and sail through the air like real birds. 

You can make them of white 
tissue paper and play that they 
are beautiful, white sea gulls. 

You can make them of blue 
tissue paper and pretend that 
they are the joyous bluebirds. 

You can make them of red tis¬ 
sue paper and have the card¬ 
inal grosbeak or the scarlet 
tanager, and you can make 
them of brown paper and have 
a flock of the dusty, fusty little 
English sparrows. 

The paper oblong for a bird 
must be much larger than for 
a butterfly. It should be almost 
but not quite square, like Fig 7. 

The figures near the edges of 
the oblong Fig. 7 will tell a 
“grown-up” or a big boy or 
girl the exact size to make it, 
and you can get some one to 
show you. For sparrows the 
papers should be smaller. 

Fold the oblong for the bird 
through the middle where you 
see the dotted line in Fig. 7, 
just as you folded the oblong 
for the butterfly, then turn 
down one single, upper corner 
like Fig. 8. You will see that 
the corner does not fit evenly 
on the oblong as it did for the 
butterfly, but laps a little way 




Edge. 












334 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


over the folded edge. Turn down the other single, 
upper corner in the same way on the other side of the 
oblong and make the two points of the turned-down 
corners meet evenly (Fig. 9). Take your soft pencil 
now and draw the lines you see on the lower part of 



When this Bird flies it looks like a real one. 


Fig. 9, which will make the wings and tail of the bird. 
Cut out along the lines you have drawn, open the bird 
out flat and it will look like Fig. 10. Let one turned- 
down corner lap over the other turned-down corner 
and pin them together as you see them pinned in Fig. 
10. Do not run the pin through the back of the bird, 
but only through the two turned-over corners which 
form the underside of the bird. That is all you have 

to do. The bird is finished now and you can make 
it fly. 






HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 335 


Look at the picture of the little boy and his flying 
birds and you will see how to hold the bird. Let it rest 
lightly on your hand with the head pointing a little 
downward, then take your hand away and the bird will 



The Paper Birds will Fly. 


float off into the air. It 
will raise its wings and 
sweep around in a curve, 
or it will glide all the way 
across the room lighting, 
perhaps, on a table, per¬ 
haps on the floor or a 
chair, but never where 
you think it is going to 
light. On a still day, when 
no wind is blowing, try flying your birds out of doors 
where there is plenty of room. If you stand on the 
steps or on the piazza the birds will fly farther. 


THE AEROPLANE. 

Here is an aeroplane that even very small boys and 
girls can make for themselves. Tissue paper is not 
used for this, but ordinary writing-paper or even news¬ 
paper, though writing paper is the best because it is 
stiffer. If you have a large pad of good, white writing 
paper, tear off a sheet and fold it lengthwise so that it 




336 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


will be divided into three equal parts. Fig. 11 shows 
the sheet of paper and the dotted lines show where it is 
to be folded. Fig. 12 shows how the paper looks after 
it is folded. Now open the folded paper out and cut 
along the lines made by the folds and you will have 
three strips of paper all of a size. Two of the strips 
you are to use for your first aeroplane, the extra strip 
will be for your second aeroplane and will show you 
just how wide to cut more strips. 

Fold one strip of paper lengthwise through the mid¬ 
dle like Fig. 13, and another strip crosswise through 



I 


12 

L_ 

Folded into 
three parts. 





A strip folded 
lengthwise. 



A strip folded 
crosswise. 


the middle like Fig. 14, and then open both pieces out 
again. Lay the strip with the lengthwise fold down flat 
with the fold next to the table and lay the strip with 
the crosswise fold across it, as you see it in Fig. 15. 
The fold in the top paper must fit in the fold of the 
bottom paper. Paste the two papers together and you 
will have a cross like Fig. 15. Fold the cross together 
along the crease and it will look like Fig. 16. The two 
arms of the cross must fit evenly together. Draw the 
heavy lines you see on Fig. 16 and then cut out along 
these lines to make the cross into an aeroplane. The 
top of the cross, you see, is cut into a point. This is 
the prow. Real aeroplanes do not have this prow, but 





















HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 337 


the paper one will not fly without it. The arms of the 
cross are rounded off at the top corners and then they 



become the large or main plane. The lower part of the 
cross is cut narrower and is the framework or backbone 



The Paper Aeroplane before the pin is put in. 


of the aeroplane, and the small oblong left at the end 
is called the lighting plane. 


VOL. 1—22 
































338 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Run a pin through the folded point, or prow, as you 
see it in Fig. 16, and open the aeroplane out as you did 
the butterfly. Fig. 17 shows how it will look before 
the pin is put in, and by Fig. 18 you can see just how 
to hold the aeroplane when you want to make it fly. 

Turn the point of the prow a little downward, then 
open your fingers and the aeroplane will glide out of 
your hand and sail a long distance. If you spread the 
main plane out flat the aeroplane will fly in a circle 



This is the way to hold the Aeroplane. 


and come back to you; if you bring the two ends of the 
main plane too close together it will turn on its side 
and fall; if you allow the two ends of the main plane 
to lift a little, as you see them in Fig. 18, the aeroplane 
will make a long, sweeping flight. 

When you launch your aeroplane do not shove it 
forward, but let it go easily. You will soon learn how 
to send it off, and then you can have great fun starting 
one aeroplane after another, and keeping several in 
the air at a time. Try the aeroplanes out of doors when 
the wind is not blowing. 




HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 339 


Match-Box Toy Furniture. 

E can make a fine set of furniture of empty 
match-boxes, furniture which looks just like 
the furniture grown-up people have in their 
houses, and best of all the work is quick and easy, but 
you must be very careful to examine each box sep¬ 
arately and be sure that it is absolutely empty before 




Table made of empty Match-boxes. 


Chair made of empty 
Match-boxes. 


beginning work, for only empty boxes are allowed in 
this workshop. 

Let us commence our furniture by making an at¬ 
tractive, comfortable little chair, the kind dolls like 
best. For this use three empty match-boxes, Fig 2. 
Place one box down flat and glue another down flat 
on top of it, with the plain unlettered side uppermost, 
Fig. 4. Across the top of one of the two boxes, glue 
another box for the back of the chair, Fig. 3. Stand 
this box upright on one end with its plain side toward 




340 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


the front, and when the glue dries the little chair will 
be finished, Fig. 2. 


HOW TO MAKE A TABLE FOR DOLLY. 

Miss Dolly’s dinner table, Fig. 1, needs six empty 
match-boxes for its construction. Glue two of the boxes 
together along their narrow long edges, forming a 
wide flat half of the top of the table. In the same way 
glue two more boxes together for the second half of 
the table top, then glue these two table top halves to¬ 
gether across the short narrow edges of the boxes 
and you will have the completed top of four boxes, 
ready for the supports. Two boxes will form strong 
supports for the table. Glue the long narrow edge 
of one box across the underside of the tabletop, a short 
distance from one end, and glue another box in the 

same manner at the 
same distance from the 
other end of the top of 
the table. Fig. 5 shows 
how the table looks 
when turned upside down, resting on its top with 
the two supports standing uppermost, and here you 
can also see exactly how the table supports are glued 
in place. 


FIG.3 



USE THE UNLETTERED SIDE OF THE BOX. 

Remember always to turn the plain unlettered side 
of the boxes outward when making the table, and the 
unlettered side of the supports outward also, so that 
when looking at the table you see only the solid color 
of the boxes. This rule holds good throughout in the 
making of all match-box toys. The solid color looks 
better and is much more desirable than lettered 
surfaces. 

Like most little girls Miss Dolly loves music and 
enjoys practicing on the piano every day, so we must 
manufacture a substantial little upright piano for her 











HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 341 


music room, Fig. 6. We will make the back of the 
piano first. Glue three boxes together along their 



narrow long edges, and while the glue is drying, fasten 
two boxes together across their short narrow edges; 
then glue the row of three boxes along their narrow 

edges on to the two 
long narrow edges of 
the two boxes as shown 
in diagram 7 A and B. 
These five boxes form 
the back of the upright 
piano. Begin the front 
of the piano by gluing 
the large flat sides of 
two boxes firmly 
against the large flat 
sides of the two boxes 
across the top of the piano back, and this double 
thickness of boxes will form the top half of the piano, 













342 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Fig. 6. Make the keyboard by joining one short nar¬ 
row edge of two boxes together. Paste one strip of 
white unruled letter paper, cut to fit, across the top 
of the two boxes; then to have the keyboard project 
out from the piano, insert and glue the long narrow 
edge of one side of the keyboard against the back of 
the piano, and the flat top of the keyboard up under 
the long narrow edges of the two boxes forming the 
upper front half of the piano. Fasten two more boxes 
together across their short narrow ends and glue them 
under the keyboard and up against the keyboard, with 
one broad side flat against the back of the piano, Fig. 6. 


FOR DOLLY’S MUSIC LESSON. 

While Miss Dolly is practicing her music lesson 
she will need a clock to tell her when it is time to stop, 

and we can make a 
tall mission clock 
(Fig. 8) which will be 
a delight and com¬ 
fort to your little girl 
dolly. 

Slide out two boxes 
from the wooden cov¬ 
erings and glue the 
two coverless boxes 
together across their 
narrow ends, Fig. 10. 
Do the same with 
two more boxes, and 
you will have the two 
sides for your clock, 
Fig. 8. Slide out an¬ 
other box, Fig. 11, 
and glue one narrow 
end of each of these 
long clock sides to 
the inside and the 
bottom of this last box, Fig. 11. The clock sides 



FIG. IO 











HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 343 

will now stand npright and apart leaving an open 
space between. Cut the face of the clock and the pen¬ 
dulum in one piece from writing paper Fig. 9, and 
mark the hands and numbers on the face. Bend back 
the pendulum so that it lies loosely across the back 
of the clock face, Fig. 13. Slide out still another box 
from its wooden covering for the top of the clock, 
Fig. 12, and glue the extension of the clock face, 
which is immediately over the clock face, D, Fig. 13, 
to the inside center of one long edge of the box, 



Fig. 12, then glue the box, with its freely hanging clock 
face and its pendulum, across the top ends of the up¬ 
right clock sides, Fig. 8. A touch of glue will fasten the 
clock face to the front of each side of the clock allowing 
the pendulum to swing free. Crown the top of the 
clock with a peaked roof. Make the roof of the outside 
wooden cover of a box. Examine this and you will 
find that one of the long edges is of two layers; care¬ 
fully separate these layers, spread them open and fit 
the open edges flat across the top of the clock from 
front to back. They will project out beyond the clock 
and must be shortened. Mark the exact fit, and with 








344 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


scissors cut off the surplus length, Fig. 14, of the en¬ 
tire box covering; then glue the opened-out sides of 
the peaked roof on to the flat top of the clock, Fig. 8. 

A SPLENDID SOFA FOR DOLLY. 

After Miss Dolly has been out for a walk she will 
be glad of a nice large sofa with plenty of space where 



she can rest and read her story book, and if you will 
get eight empty match-boxes we can soon have a sofa 
for her, Fig. 15. Glue four boxes together along their 

narrow long edges for 
the back of the sofa, 
Fig. 16, and make the 
seat of two boxes glued 
together across the nar¬ 
row short ends, Fig. 17. 
Let each arm of the sofa be one box, Figs. 18 and 
19. Glue one long narrow edge of one box arm, 
Fig. 18, against one extreme end of the flat front 
side of the sofa back, Fig. 16; this will cause the arm 
to project outward toward the front, Fig. 15. Glue 
the second box, Fig. 19, in the same way to the oppo- 


/- 


□ 

\ 




FI 6.16 











HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 345 


site end of the sofa-back for the other arm, then glue 
the seat in against the back and arms of the sofa as 
you see it in Fig. 15. You might make two or three 

little sofa cushions for 
the sofa, of bright col¬ 
ored tissue paper. The 
work is very easy; sim¬ 
ply cut tissue paper 



FIO.I8 


no.is bags of different colors 
and till them with bits of white tissue paper; then 
fasten the two sides of the open end together with 
paste. These cushions will add to the comfort of Miss 
Dolly and her friends. 


WHERE DOLLY HANGS HER STOCKINGS. 

On cool days Miss Dolly always expects a cheerful 
make-believe open tire in a big fireplace where she can 



watch the make-believe wood burn and see the make- 
believe blaze, and where, on “The night before Christ- 

















346 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


mas , 1 ’ she can hang up her cunning little stocking and 
let it swing from the mantel shelf for a wee Santa 
Claus to fill with tiny Christmas gifts. We will make 
her a fireplace if you can gather up some more empty 
match boxes, Fig. 20. Glue two boxes together along 
their narrow long edges for one half of one side of the 
fireplace, Fig. 23. Glue two more boxes together in 
like manner for the second half of the same side of 
the fireplace, then glue the large flat side of one of 
these halves to the large flat side of the other half to 
make it of double thickness, for each of the two sides of 
the fireplace must be of double thickness, Fig. 21. 

Make the second side 
of the fireplace of four 
boxes in the same way 
that you have just made 
the completed first side, 
Fig. 21. For the back 
of the mantelshelf join 
three boxes together 
across their short nar¬ 
row edges, Fig. and 
do the same with three 
more boxes for the 
shelf. Make the back of 
the inside of the fireplace opening, of two boxes glued 
together along their narrow long edges, Fig. 23. Now 
all the parts are ready, and this is the way to put them 
together. Glue one narrow short side edge of the back 
of the fireplace, Fig. 23, against the extreme end of 
the large flat side of one fireplace side, Fig. 21, fitting 
the parts perfectly together; then glue the second side 
of the fireplace up against the other short narrow edge 
of the back of the fireplace in the same manner. The 
double sides will stand forward at right angles from 
the back of the fireplace leaving an opening between 
for the fire. The long back of the mantelshelf, Fig. 



fT" — 

\ 


FIG. 23 


/- 7 -- \ .. \ 


■ 

FI 6. Z JB. 


















HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 347 



22, must now be glued in place. Fasten one narrow 
long edge of the mantle back across over the top of 
the sides and the back of the fireplace, and it will stand 
up ready for backing the shelf. Glue the shelf on 
the fireplace with one long narrow edge tight against 
the long back of the shelf, then one flat side of the shelf 
will rest over across the top of the sides of the fire¬ 
place where it must be glued, Fig. 20. 

WHEN THE SANDMAN COMES ALONG. 

Of course Miss Dolly grows very drowsy in the 
evening about the time the sandman comes along and 


she needs a handsome bed to sleep in. If she only 
could, Miss Dolly would be an up-to-date girl and help 
make the bedstead, but I am sure we can manage to 
put the bedstead together if we try. Let us make the 
foot of the bed of two boxes glued together along their 
narrow long edges, Fig 25. The head of the bed will 
be like the foot with the addition of another box with 




348 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


its long narrow edge glued across on top of the two 
short edges or the other two boxes, Fig. 26. We will 
need four more boxes for the body of the bed. Fasten 
the long narrow edges of two boxes together, Fig. 25, 
and do the same with two more boxes, then glue four 
boxes together across the short narrow edges, Fig. 27. 

across one of the short 
narrow edges of the 
bed, Fig. x 27, and fasten 
the footboard, Fig. 25, 
across the other short 
narrow edge of the bed, 
Fig. 27. When the glue 
dries you can put on 
the tissue paper mat¬ 
tress with tissue paper 
sheets, blankets, and 
bed spread, also the tis¬ 
sue paper pillows. Or 
you may have the bed¬ 
ding made of fine mus¬ 
lin and flannels, then 
you can have the fun 
of washing and ironing 
the sheets and pillow 
cases when they need 
laundering. In the pic¬ 
ture of the bedstead no bedding was used, that you 
may see exactly how the bedstead is made. 

FURNITURE MAY BE PAINTED ANY COLOR. 

If at any time you want to change the color of your 
match-box furniture you can paint all the different 
pieces and have them any color you choose, and instead 
of making only one chair you might make six or more, 
and you could have two or three sofas and several beds 
and tables. You can make white fringed table cloths 
for your little dinner table, and little books for another 


Glue the headboard, Fig. 26, 

/z==z==a 


r ~— 

- \ 


FI Cl . 26 


/- 

\ 




F1G.2.7 






















HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 349 


table you intend to use in Dolly’s library or living 
room. Miss Dolly would also like pretty paper orna¬ 
ments for her mantelpiece, and a bouquet of paper 
flowers for the top of her piano. 


Curious Cork Toys. 

» 

0 you know that if you try you can make toys of 
almost anything, and often toys made of the 
common and cast-off things are the most amusing 
of all. 

Take old corks for instance. Why, with a handful 
of corks, some long and some short pins, and a little 
ingenuity in putting them together, you can work won¬ 
ders. There are a number of things that can be made 
of corks, but you will like the animals and little people 
best because they are the funniest and most interest¬ 
ing, and they look alive. The corks should be of 
various sizes for, of course, the different parts of an 
animal require different sized corks, and the greater 
variety you have, the more natural your animals will 
be. If you like better than any others the animals you 
know and that know you, make farm animals—the 
cow, the horse, the dog, and the farmer, too, with his 
wife and child. 

THE FARMER. 

Figs. 2, 3, and 4 show the farmer with his pet 
dog and pet goose and you can make a man, a dog, 
and a goose exactly like them. The farmer’s arms 
will move up and down, the goose’s head will turn 
this way and that, but the little dog’s lifted head 
and saucy turned tail must remain as they are unless 
you pull them oil and stick them on again in other 
positions. 

Use eight corks in making the farmer. A large, 
thick cork for his body, a smaller, more slender one 
for his head, two long, straight corks for his legs, 




350 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and four tapering, quite slender corks for his arms. 
Look at Fig. 3 and see what they are like. To hold 
the corks together, you will need three quite large 
pins and four smaller pins. With a strong hat pin 
pierce a hole about half an inch deep in the cork you 
have chosen for the farmer’s head. Run the hat pin 
in at the center of the large end of the cork and 
work it around a little to make the hole larger, then 
push a large pin in the hole, head first. Push the pin 



The Pet Dog. The Farmer. The Pet Goose. 

in as far as it will go, then press the point of the 
pin down on a piece of hard wood. This will force 
the pin up into the cork and it will hold fast. The 
cork and pin will look like C in Fig. 1. Put a large 
pin in the top end of each leg cork in the same way, 
then fasten the head to the body by pushing the point 
of the head pin down through the center of the smal¬ 
lest end of the body cork and fasten the legs to the 
body by running the points of the pins up into the 
larger end of the body cork. Force the pins well 
up into the cork and make the corks fit snugly to¬ 
gether. If you are careful in placing the legs so 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 351 


that they will balance the little man properly, he will 
stand alone. 

Ordinary pins will answer for the arms. Run a 
pin entirely through each cork, putting it in at the 
small end of the cork and letting the point come out 
at the large end. (A, Fig. 1). Join the two parts 
of an arm together by pushing the point of the pin 



Fig 1. 


in one cork through the side of another cork at its 
small end (F, Fig. 1). This will make an arm bent 
at the elbow. Make both arms alike, then fasten them 
in place by pushing the pins in the top, part of the way 
into the body of the man at the shoulders. Now you 
can turn the arms up or down as you like, for the pins 
holding them to the body act as pivots. When the 
farmer is finished, draw in the features on his face, 
very simply, with pen and ink. The natural markings 
on the cork often suggest eyes, nose and mouth, and 
sometimes they give a very funny expression. 















352 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


THE LITTLE DOG. 

You need not always make one cork fit flatly 
against another; it often gives more of what is called 
“character” and “action” when the smaller corks 
are stuck on at angles. You will notice when you look 
at Fig. 2 that neither the head nor the tail of the dog 
fits closely to the body, but are put on in such a way 
as to give an upward tilt to both. The tail of the goose 
is also put on in this way. Make the dog’s body of 
a cork like that used for the farmer’s head, and make 
his legs and tail of corks like those used for the far¬ 
mer’s arms. Choose a size between these for the dog’s 
head and quite small corks for his ears. Push an 
ordinary pin in the cork for the dog’s head, as you 
did in the cork for the man’s head (C, Fig. 1), and 
stick the head on the small end of the body cork. 
Push the pin into the body cork slantingly so that the 
dog will lift his head. Run pins all the way through 
the leg corks, the tail cork, and the ear corks, putting 
the pin in at the small end of each cork, and stick 
them on the dog in the positions shown in Fig. 2. 

THE GOOSE. 

You must have a long, straight cork for the body 
of the goose (Fig. 4), smaller, tapering corks for the 
neck, head, and tail, and short, tapering ones for the 
legs. Fasten the goose’s head to its neck as you fasten 
the lower part (F, Fig. 1), and stick the neck on top 
of the body cork letting it extend a little over the end. 
Pin the tail on the goose as you see it in Fig. 4. Put 
the legs on small end up, and give each foot four toes 
by sticking small pins in near the bottom edge of the 
cork, three toes in front and one at the back. (B, Fig. 
1). On these feet the goose can stand easily. For the 
goose all the pins, except in the legs, are run in from 
the small end of the corks; for the legs they are put 
in at the large end of the corks. 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 353 


THE FAEMEE’S WIFE. 

Use a large cork for the woman’s skirt, a size 
smaller for her body and two sizes smaller for her 
head. You will need a large pin to fasten the body 
to the skirt, and the body cork must be put on large 
end down, for the farmer’s wife does not have a small 
waist. Put the pin in the body cork as in C, Fig. 1, 
then push it down into the small end of the skirt cork, 
(C, Fig. 1), and stick the head on the body, small end 
down, tilting it a little to one side to give her a life¬ 
like air. Make her arms as you made the farmer’s 
arms, and pin a slice of a small cork on top of her head 
for her knot of hair. There is no trouble about mak¬ 
ing the woman stand and Fig. 7 will show you how 
she looks. 


THE CHILD. 

The child is a funny little thing, and may be either 
a girl or a boy (Fig. 5). It wears a flat hat and its 



FJC-5 FIG. 6 FIG 7 


The Child. The spirited little Horse. The Farmer’s Wife. 

* 

short arms do not bend at the elbow. Choose a long, 
straight cork for the body, and small, tapering corks 
for the arms and legs. A thicker, tapering cork will 
answer for the head, and must be put on small end 
down, like the woman’s. Run the pins all the way 
through the corks for the head, arms, and legs. Cut 



354 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


a slice from a large cork and pin it to the head with 
a small pin for the hat. The child will not stand alone 
unless you stick three pins in each foot (Fig. 5), or, 
if you care to take the trouble, you can cut slices 
lengthwise from a cork and pin them on the bottom 
of the leg corks for feet. (D, Fig. 1). If the feet 
are large enough, they will hold him up nicely. 

THE HORSE. 

With a head that will turn in any direction, ears 
erect and tail flying, the cork horse is a spirited 
animal (Fig. 6). Make the body of the horse of two 
large, thick corks fastened together at the large ends. 
Use smaller, more tapering corks for his neck, a smal¬ 
ler one still for his head, and quite small, tapering 
corks for his ears. Tilt the ears forward a little as a 
horse cocks his ears when listening. Push a long 
pin through two small corks for his tail, putting the 
two small ends of the corks together (I, Fig. 1), and 
fasten the tail on the body as shown in Fig. 6. Make 
each leg of two small corks, use a smaller size for the 
lower part than for the upper, and pin the large end 
of the small cork to the small end of the larger cork. 
One pin will hardly do for the leg; use an ordinary 
pin to fasten the lower part to the upper part, then 
push another pin, head first, into the upper part of 
the leg (C, Fig. 1), and use the point to stick the leg 
to the horse’s body. You will soon learn the best 
way to put the pins in the corks to make the strong¬ 
est joints. When you have finished the horse, turn 
his head and it will give him a funny, knowing look. 

THE COW. 

After the horse, you must make the cow, for that 
is very necessary on the farm. Perhaps the cork ani¬ 
mal will not look exactly like the familiar old cow, 
but you can pretend that it does. At any rate, the 
cork cow has horns, if it has no ears, and it has a 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 355 


long tail with a tassel on the end of it. (Fig. 8). It 
will take three large corks, all of a size, for the cow’s 

long body and a good-sized, tapering cork for the 
head. 


Make the legs like the horse’s legs, and make the 



tail like the horse’s tail 
(I, Fig. 1), and add a 
small cork at the end. 
When you fasten the 
tail on the cow make it 
hang down as straight 
as possible. Use slen¬ 
der, tapering corks for 
the horns, and put them 
on the head as you see 
them in Fig. 8. If you feel that your cow must have 
ears, cut a slice from the end of a small cork, divide 
the slice in half (G, Fig. 1), and pin one-half slice on 
each side of the cow’s head under and back of the 
horns. 


The Old Cow 


THE PIG. 

Another farm animal is the pig, and in Fig. 9 you 
see the cork pig complete even to its curly tail. 

Select two good sized corks 
for the body, a smaller more 
tapering one for the head, four 
small, tapering ones for the 
legs, and two quite small corks 
for the ears. If you cut a piece 
diagonally from the small end 
of the head cork (T, Fig. 1) The pig. 

it will make the snout a better shape, but this is not 
absolutely necessary. Cut off the small ends of two 
small corks for the tail and pin them together as in H, 
Fig. 1. Fasten the large ends of the body corks to¬ 
gether and pin the tail on as shown in Fig. 9. Although 
the head is on a line with the body it looks as if it were 




356 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


lifted, so it is not necessary to tilt it. Let the ears 
slant slightly forward. 

This finishes our stock of farm animals, but if you 
also want a menagerie of the wilder and more fero¬ 
cious beasts you can just as easily make a fat and 
clumsy hippopotamus, an alligator with long and trail¬ 
ing tail, and various other animals strange and queer. 


THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 

Make the huge body of the hippopotamus (Fig. 10) 
of two of your largest corks and his head of a long but 

more slender cork. Use pretty 
good sized corks for his short 
legs, for they should be thick 
and bulky. The small, taper¬ 
ing corks above the animal’s 
head (Fig. 10) are not horns 
and the hippopotamus has 
small ears, but they will an¬ 
swer for his rather prominent 
eyes and they give character 
which, without them, the head would lack. Use a small, 
slender cork for the tail. 



FIG.IQ 


The Hippopotamus. 


THE ALLIGATOR. 

For the body of the alligator you will need two 
rather long, tapering corks (Fig. 11), then one a size 
smaller for the first joint of the tail, and another sev¬ 
eral sizes smaller for the last joint or tip of the tail. 
Select short, tapering corks for the legs and a larger 
one for the head. Fasten the large ends of the body 
corks together, then pin on the tail so that it will droop 
at the ends, and the under part will form an unbroken 
line with the body. Tilt the head up (Fig. 12) as an 
alligator lifts its head when it sees you. 

An elephant with its large body, its thick legs, and 
long, tapering trunk will not be difficult to make of 
the corks. Then there is a long-necked, long-legged 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 357 


giraffe, which will be like the horse with the neck and 
two front legs drawn out and lengthened by adding 
several corks to each. 

A rhinoceros will 
look much like the hip¬ 
popotamus, but will 
have a horn on the tip 
of his nose. 

It is easier to give 
character to the larger 
among the wild animals 
than to the smaller ones, but it is fun to try all kinds, 
for you can never be sure just how they will look until 
you make them. 



FIG. 11 

The Alligator. 


Fairy Costumes and Game of Newspaper. 

the fairy game. 

AIRIES are delightful little “make believe 
yEfe people,” and some of their houses are the beau- 
HST tiful fragrant flowers, yellow, blue, white, pink, 
and all colors. Other fairy folk live in the trees of 
deep, wild forests, and when the flower fairies wish 
to visit their cousins, they drive to the forests in won¬ 
derful chariots made each of a single blossom, the 
horses are brilliantly colored butterflies and beetles, 
often as many as five or seven being attached to one 
chariot. Sometimes though, when the fairies wish to 
go very rapidly, they leave their horses and chariots at 
home and use the milkweed seed-vessel down, and the 
light feathery down of our common dandelion seeds as 
air-ships. Clinging to these the fairies sail gaily 
through the air traveling many miles, and as the wind 
blows they sail faster and faster, often racing with 
each other in their dainty little airships to see who will 



358 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


first reach the destination. Fairies are very busy lit¬ 
tle folks, always trying to help people and give them 
pleasant surprises, for their Queen is ever on the 
watch for opportunities of making others happy and 
the fairies themselves gladly do her errands of kind¬ 
ness. You may always know which is the Queen of 
the fairies for she alone wears a crown and carries in 
her hand a magic wand tipped with a star, and when 
you pretend that you are a fairy queen you must have 
a crown and a wand like the little Queen in the 
photograph. 

You can play that you are just such a Queen if 
you will cut some newspapers in the way I shall tell 
you, for we are to make believe that the newspapers 
have been enchanted, and that if we cut them with 
the scissors they will turn back again into all the 
pretty belongings you need added to your dress in 
order to look like a little fairy Queen. 

Let us cut out the crown before other portions of 
the costume, that you may try it on, see how well it fits, 
and have the fun of wearing the crown while you cut 
more newspapers for other needed articles. 

Take a smooth clean half sheet of newspaper and 
cut a strip 8 inches wide, and 22 inches long. Fold 
the strip lengthwise through the center making it of 

double thickness; then fold 
this double strip crosswise at 
the center. Cut the loose edges 
into graduated points accord¬ 
ing to the markings in Fig. 1, unfold and you will have 
a crown of two layers of newspaper, Fig. 2. Fit the 
crown on your head and pin the two ends together at 
the back. 


You must have an overdress made entirely of long 
fringe reaching from your waist to the bottom of your 
dress. Take four layers of smooth clean newspaper 








The Fairy Queen. 2. The Fairy Godmother. 

















HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 359 


and make them into fringe as long as needed and of 
strands one inch wide, cut through the four layers of 
each clip of the scissors, Fig. 4. When all the fringe 
has been cut, fold the solid top edges of the four layers 
over evenly and smoothly, making the belt-like por¬ 
tion which surrounds the waist eight layers. Fit your 
fringed overdress with the turned-in top edges for 
the wrong side, and slip it on over the dress you hap¬ 
pen to be wearing. 



Newspaper ornaments for your 
shoes or slippers will add greatly to 
the beauty of the costume. Cut two 
circular pieces of newspaper and 
pinch each one at the center to give 
fullness; then pin or paste one of 
these ornaments on the top of each 
shoe and you will find that the rosettes make your 
shoes look quite fairy like. 

If you have ever made rolled paper lighters such 
as people used years ago, you can easily make a fine 

fairy wand, for they are 
rolled into round paper 
sticks in the same manner 
as the lighters. Cut a strip 
of newspaper 3% inches 
wide and 23 inches long, 
begin at one corner and 
roll the strip loosely at 
first, and tighter as you 
work, that the wand may 
not be too slender, for it 
should measure consider¬ 
ably more in circumference than an ordinary lead pen¬ 
cil and when finished should be about 20 inches long. 
Paste the last end of the paper around the rolled stick 
to keep it from unwinding and cut a good-sized star of 
newspaper to fasten on the small end of your wand; 
Fig. 3 gives the pattern for your star. 

All fairies have wings of some kind, and you can 



Fig. 4. Newspaper fringe ready for the 
Fairy Queen’s Overdress. 






360 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 



make your wings of newspaper like those of the little 
Queen in the photograph. Have the wings of but one 
thickness of newspaper and each paper 23 inches wide 
and 18 inches long. Cut the corners rounded on one 
23-inch end of each paper as shown in Fig. 5, and 

when both wings have been cut out, 
fold each into broad fan-like plaits; 
then pin together the folds on the 
straight edge of each wing to hold the 
folds in place, Fig. 6. Make a flap, 
for fastening the wings to your 
shoulders, by bending the plaited pinned end of each 
wing a little over to one side immediately below the 
pin, Fig. 7. This done, spread out the folds at the 
rounded end of the wing and flatten the folds a trifle 
just where they begin to open at the pinned end; then 
ask some one to adjust and pin one wing on each 
shoulder of your dress, and make sure that the wings 
are well fitted and securely fastened in place. 

With your wand in your hand you will now be 
ready to play you are the fairy Queen, and if you 
want a troup of fairy followers, tell each little friend 
to wear a newspaper fairy costume like the one you 
have made, except the crown and wand, which none 
of the troup may be allowed to wear save the Queen. 

When holding your fairy court, stand on a strong 
wooden box that you may be raised up higher than 
the others, and all the court will then be able to see 
their Queen. Let your fairies circle around you hand 
in hand, stretching out at full arms length, and as they 
dance join them in a merry song; then lead the happy 
band in the pageant march of the fairies. Invite 
grown-up people for an audience when you give the 
fairy tableaux. One of the tableaux should be the 
Queen standing alone posed like the little girl in the 
photograph. As a background for this tableaux use 
a screen of solid dark green, if this is not to be had, 
help your big sister hang dark solid colored cloth or 
rugs, smooth and flat over the sides of a clothes-horse, 




HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 361 


using it as a screen, and place more dark drapery over 
a wooden box on which you are to stand. 

The little fairy Godmother with her peaked hat, 
which you see in the second photograph would also 
make a charming tableaux posed with another little 
girl as Cinderella. The Godmother could stand smil¬ 
ing down upon Cinderella and at the same time be 
ready to tap a large yellow pumpkin with her wand, 



while Cinderella m an old limp dress might be seated 
forlornly on the floor looking up wistfully at the little 
fairy Godmother. Should there be no one to take the 

part of Cinderella, the fairy God¬ 
mother might stand alone in the act 
of transforming a pumpkin into a 
golden chariot. You can help the little 
Godmother make her newspaper cos¬ 
tume for the work will be easy. Take 
a large piece of newspaper and twist 
into a cornucopia for the high peaked 
hat; then cut off the lower point of 
the cornucopia along dotted line, Fig. 
8. Fold a square of newspaper into a 
three-cornered piece and pin this little 
paper shawl across the Godmother’s 
shoulders. Make the handle of her 
wand as you made the Queen’s wand 
































362 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and in place of the star, tip the wand with a double 
paper disk, one disk on each side of the top of the 
wand, fit the two disks well together and hold them in 
place with strong paste like the wand in the photo¬ 
graph. Cut and make rosettes for her shoes in the 
same way the rosettes were made for the shoes of the 
Queen, and you might ask your big sister to help you 
plait newspaper into a panier overdress for the little 
Godmother. Your sister can pin the straight-hanging 
plaited paper to the belt of the Godmother and then 
by plaiting up each side of the open front edges of the 
overdress to meet the plaited top edge at the waist 
line, the overdress will be made to stand out in a large 
puff on each side as shown in the photograph A belt 
to cover the top plaited edge of the overdress can be 
made of a folded strip of newspaper. 

There are many more costumes you can fashion 
from newspapers. If you talk it over with your big 
sister she will be glad to help you invent various styles 
of fancy dress, by merely cutting newspaper in differ¬ 
ent ways and pinning the separate pieces together, or 
fastening them on your dress as the case may be, 
sometimes adding, cap, hat, or other head dress of 
newspaper. 


THE GAME OF NEWSPAPER DARTS. 

Games can also be made of newspaper, the game 
of Newspaper Darts is a delightful pastime. Try it; 
boys can make the game and enjoy playing it, and girls 
can fashion the game equally as well. Players may 
be divided into sides and the side which first scores 
fifty wins the game. The game can be played by 
dividing the party into pairs, each pair being partners, 
and it may be played individually, each player’s score 
counting separately. 

Make as many darts as there are players and make 
one good-sized wreath, then begin the game. Hang up 
the wreath where there will be plenty of space in front 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 363 


and back of it, and let each player in turn endeavor 
to throw his dart through the wreath. Every time a 
dart passes through, the player scores ten. Fifty is 
the game and the first girl or boy whose score counts 
fifty is the victor and is champion of the newspaper 
game. 

To make the darts, cut two and one-half-inch wide 
strips crosswise from an unfolded sheet of the news¬ 
paper, which will give you a strip about thirty-three 



Fig. 9. Long stick made of paper. 

inches long. Begin at one corner and roll the paper 
strip spirally into a thick round stick or large-sized 
paper lighter. Bend the bottom end down twice to 
keep it from unrolling. The darts should be about 
twenty-four inches long and average three-quarters 
of an inch in diameter. Wrap a good-sized wire nail 
in paper and insert it in the dart at the open smaller 
end as a weight. Make the lioop-wreath of two darts 
cut from the gay-colored supplement; join them to¬ 
gether into a long stick by running the smaller end of 
one dart into the open smaller end of the other, for 
the point of one dart must be pushed into the open 

end of the other dart be¬ 
fore turning this long 
stick into a wreatli-hoop. 

Hold the long paper 
stick in your left hand, 
and with the thumb and 
first finger of your right 
hand pinch together the 
paper sides at the top of 
the stick, this will make a 
small flat place on the 
stick, while still holding 
the stick with thumb and 







364 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


first finger of the right hand, pinch the stick again with 
thumb and first finger of left hand, this time flattening 
the paper in opposite direction at right angle to the 
first pinch. Make a third pinch with the left hand at 
right angle to the second pinch and continue pinching 
the sides of the stick this way and that way alternately 
until the entire stick has passed between the fingers 
and has been flattened alternately its whole length. 
Every succeeding pinch must be made immediately 
next to the preceding one. Fig. 9 gives one end of the 
long stick after a few pinches have been made, and 
Fig. 10 shows the wreath when finished. 


Valentines—Without Paste or Glue. 

« RINGr out your colored paper and scissors for we 
are going to make home-made valentines. It is 
almost as much fun to prepare for Valentine’s 
Day as for Christmas if you only know how. You 
can make such pretty valentines yourself with very 
little trouble. They will be quite different from those 
found in the shops and you can have as many to send 
to your friends as you want, and no two alike. You 
may write what you please on your valentines, too, 
a little rhyme, if you can make one, or just a pretty 
message. The baby Cupid with his bow and arrows, 
the hearts that he shoots at and sometimes pierces 
with his darts, make the prettiest kind of valentines 
and very appropriate ones. We won’t attempt the 
boy Cupid, but I am going to show you how to make 
several kinds of valentines with hearts and darts and 
Cupid’s bow. 


THE HEART VALENTINE. 

First you must have patterns for cutting out the 
hearts; big hearts, little hearts, and middle-sized 
hearts. These patterns are the simplest things in the 



HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 365 


r 

world to make, for it doesn’t really matter if some 
hearts are longer in proportion than others and some 
wider, if yon get the general shape and have both 
halves of the heart alike it will be all right. Fold a 

piece of writing paper through the mid¬ 
dle and draw the half heart, big or little, 
on the paper as you see it in Fig. 1. 
Notice that the line begins and ends on 
the fold of the paper. Cut the heart out 
along the line you have drawn and when 
you open it out flat there will be a crease 
down through the middle, it will look 
like Fig. 2, and both halves will be alike. 



With a little practice you will soon learn to cut out 
your heart patterns free hand and you will not have 
to draw them. Fig. 3 shows how to make the pattern 

for Cupid’s arrow, or dart as it is 
sometimes called. Fold a narrow 
piece of paper lengthwise through the 
middle and on it draw the half arrow 
as it is in Fig. 3. The fold of the 
paper will run exactly through the 
middle of the arrow and when you 
cut it out it will look like Fig. 4. You can make your 
arrows as large or small as you like. Fig. 5 is a pretty 




valentine made of two hearts pinned to¬ 
gether with Cupid’s arrow. Make the pat¬ 
tern for the largest heart about three 
inches high and three inches wide, and the 
pattern for the smaller heart two inches 
high and two inches wide. For the large 
heart you must have some bright red 
paper, red on both sides, and for the small 
heart you must have pale yellow paper. 























366 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


Lay the pattern for the large heart down flat on the 
red paper, hold it firmly in place and run your pencil 
around the edge of the pattern, making the lines on 
the red paper. Cut out the heart you have drawn on 
the red paper, then lay the pattern of the smaller heart 
on the yellow paper, run your pencil around the edge 

of the pattern and cut out the 
yellow heart along the lines 
you have drawn. Make the pat¬ 
tern of the arrow, which is 
to hold the two hearts to¬ 
gether, about five inches long 
and one inch wide at the feathered end. Make the 
widest part of the tip, or pointed end, a little over one 
inch wide. Lay the pattern of the arrow out flat on 
a piece of light blue paper, blue on both sides, and run 
your pencil around the edge of the pattern, making 
the lines on the blue paper, then cut out your blue 
arrow. Lay the red heart on a piece of smooth wood 
and on top of it, exactly in the middle, place the yellow 
heart, then with a sharp knife 
cut two straight slits, running 
up and down, all the way 
through both hearts as you 
see them in Fig. 5. It will be 
best to ask some older person 
to do this for you. The slits 
should be about half an inch 
long. Fold in the two side 
points of the arrow tip (B, Fig. 4) to make it narrow, 
run the arrow through the slits in the two hearts, pull 
it half way through the hearts, flatten out the tip again 
and there is your finished valentine (Fig. 5). On one 
heart write: My Heart; on the other heart write: Your 
Heart, and, if you like, write a message on the other 
side of the large heart. 

You can make a different kind of valentine by 
using Cupid’s bow as well as his arrow. Fig. 6 shows 
what it is like. The arrow pattern you made for the 












HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 367 


Two-Heart valentine will answer to cut your arrow by, 
and Fig. 7 shows how to make the pattern for the bow. 
Fold a piece of writing paper through the middle and 
draw the half bow as nearly like Fig. 7, as you can. 

Cut it out and it will be a pretty good 
bow even if it is not exactly like your 
copy, for the two halves will be alike 
making it symmetrical, or even-sided 
(Fig. 8). It is well, however, to try 
to make your drawing as nearly right 
as possible, for Fig. 7 is the best shape for the bow. 
Remember that the wide scallops form the bow and 
the arrow strip which connects the two ends is the 
bow-string. 

Choose a piece of blue paper, blue on both sides, 
and lay the pattern of your bow on it. Run your pen¬ 
cil around the pattern, then cut along the lines you 
have drawn on the blue paper. Cut slits through the 
middle of the bow as you see 
them in Fig. 8. Make a yellow 
arrow, yellow on both sides, 
the same size as the blue arrow 
used in the Two-Heart valen¬ 
tine, and cut a short slit in the notched end (A, Fig. 4). 
Fold in the side points of the arrow tip (B, Fig. 4) and 
run the arrow through the two slits in the bow. Open 
out the two points again, then slip the bow-string into 
the slit in the notch of the arrow (Fig. 7). Write your 
message on the bow. 

Your third valentine can be like Fig. 9. The Hang¬ 
ing Hearts, or United Hearts. Cut two paper hearts 
of any color you wish by your largest heart pattern, 
and two more hearts of another color by your smaller 
heart pattern. In the first two hearts cut slits as you 
see them in C and D, Fig. 10. In D, the slit is cut 
from the top down a little way below the middle of 
the heart; in C, the slit is cut from the point up a 
little way beyond the middle of the heart. C shows 











368 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


only the lower part of the heart. Slide 
the heart C down over the heart D, 
fitting the two slits together as in 
Fig. 11. Push the upper heart down 
until the point is even with the point 
of the lower heart and they will look 
like the hearts in Fig. 9. Cut slits in 
your two smaller hearts, down from 
the top in one, up from the bottom 
in the other (C and D, Fig. 10), and 
put them together as you put the 
larger hearts together. (Fig. 11.) 
Fasten the smaller hearts to the 
larger hearts with needle and thread, 
making the loops of the thread as it is 
shown in Fig. 9. The top of one of 
the lower hearts is joined to the bot¬ 
tom of one of the upper hearts by 
these loops. Fasten a soft cord to the 
upper scallops of one of the larger 
hearts, making a loop like that on 
Fig. 9. Although these hearts stand out at right an¬ 
gles to one another when hanging, they can be flat¬ 
tened down and easily enclosed in an envelope. 




THE BIRD VALENTINE. 


The messenger, Fig. 12, is the prettiest kind of an 
idea for a valentine. It represents a flying bird with 









HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 369 


a valentine message tied to its neck. Fig. 13 is the 
pattern for the bird. Cut the bird from blue paper, 

blue on both sides, and 
it will be the bluebird 
with its message of 
love; cut it from white 
paper and it will be a 
white dove. Fold a 
good sized piece of 
paper through the mid¬ 
dle and draw on it the 
half bird. Make your 
drawing as nearly like 
the bird in Fig. 13 as 
you can. The fold of 
the paper must form 
the straight lower edge 
of the bird’s body, this 
makes the bird double 
with two extended 
wings. Cut along the 
lines you have drawn, flatten out the bird’s tail and 
bend its wings down a little. Write your message on a 
little sheet of paper, put it in a tiny envelope and ad¬ 
dress it: To My Valentine. Cut a slit in the lap of the 
envelope, run one end of a narrow ribbon through the 
slit and tie it around the envelope leaving one long 
end. Tie the long end of the ribbon around the neck 
of the bird as it is in Fig. 12. This not only ties the 
message to the bird but also holds the two sides of 
the bird’s head together. 

HEART SHOWER VALENTINE. 

A Heart Shower Valentine is still another pretty 
idea, and is so easy to carry out you will not need 
illustrations or diagrams. For the Heart Shower you 
must use three pieces of narrow baby ribbon. Choose 
any color you like, or use different colors. One piece 




VOL. 1—24 










370 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


of ribbon should be nine inches long, one piece seven 
inches long and one five inches long. At one end of 
each ribbon tie a small bowknot, then make a number 
of paper hearts of various colors and sizes. The paper 
must be colored on both sides. Crosswise through the 
middle of each heart cut two straight slits about one 
quarter of an inch long and close together as the slits 
are in Cupid’s bow (Fig. 8), then string several hearts 
on each ribbon, always with the point down. Put the 
free end of the ribbon in one slit and out the other 
slit in each heart. Do not crowd the hearts together 
but leave a little space between every two hearts. 
When the hearts are all strung there should be at least 
two inches of ribbon above each top heart. Fasten 
free ends of the ribbon together with needle and thread 
and sew a little ribbon bow where they are joined. 

It is fun to make up verses and rhymes to put on 
the valentines. They need not be very fine, and prob¬ 
ably won’t, but they must never be rude or unkind; 
an unkind joke is no joke at all and always falls flat. 
If some of your verses are funny so much the better. 
In case you do not quite know what kind of verse, or 
message, to write these may help you: 

If my heart is yours and your heart is mine, 

Why, then you are my valentine. 

Guess, my dear, who this is from, 

If you can not guess just send it home. 

The dearest heart in all the world 
Is little Sweetheart just six years old. 

Now you are six and I am nine 
Pray won’t you be my Valentine? 

You will know who sends you this, 

For I’ll seal it with a kiss. 

I can not tell you now, dear, 

I can not tell you how dear 
You are to me. 

I send this 

With my best love and my best wishes. 

Who am I? 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 371 


Chicken Yard and Goose Pond. 

ERE are some toys that you can make with 
mother’s help if you are quite a little boy or 
girl. If you are a big little boy or a big little 
girl you can do it all yourself, and will find the work so 
easy you will want to make many more chickens and 
geese than the picture of the Chicken Yard and the pic¬ 
ture of the Goose Pond can hold. It doesn’t take very 
much material or very much time to make a chicken or 
goose and yet see how alive they look. Each stands 
firmly on its feet and you can put it into all sorts 
of funny and natural positions. The Chicken Yard 
seems a very lively place with its hens, its brood of 
little chickens, its roosters and strutting turkey-cock, 
all busy in one way or another. One rooster looks 
as if he were greedily eating the corn which the little 
girl has just thrown to the old hen and little chickens. 
The other rooster, with head up, is crowing: Cock-a- 
doodle-doo! while one of the hens watches him in 
admiration. The mother of the little chickens is show¬ 
ing them how to pick up the scattered corn and the 
proud old turkey-cock is stretching his neck to see what 
the prospects are for his breakfast, and all these are 
made of nothing more than bits of paper and broom 
straws. 



PAPER ROOSTERS AND LITTLE CHICKS. 

Are you impatient to begin? Then we will com¬ 
mence with the rooster, or cock, or, as the French 
call him, the chantecler, which means he can chant or 
sing. Fig. 1 shows just how he looks, and you should 
make several like him. Fold a piece of smooth, stiff 
writing paper, or the best part of an old envelope, 
through the middle and cut out the rooster’s body 
like Fig. 2. This makes the body double and gives 
the rooster two legs and two feet to stand on. If you 
can use a rule and measure the inches by it, make 
the body about one and three-quarter inches long at 






372 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 



Fig.l. 


the top and one and a half inches high. Now fold a 
piece of paper lengthwise and cut out the neck and 
head like Fig. 3. Make the neck with the head about 
one and three-quarters inches long. Fold another 

piece of paper and cut 
out the tail like Fig. 4. 
Along the folded edge 
the tail should be three 
and three-quarters 
inches long. With a 
large pin, or the sharp 
point of your scissors, 
punch two small holes 
all the way through the 
rooster’s body just 
where you see the holes 
marked A and B, in 
Fig. 2. Punch a hole 
all the way through the 
neck where it is marked A in Fig. 3, and punch a hole 
all the way through the tail where it is marked B, 
Fig. 4. Then punch a hole all the way through the 
head for the eyes. Fig. 3 will show you where to put 
the eyes. Cut a short slit in the neck where it is 
marked H, in Fig. 3, and cut 
a slit in the tail where it is 
marked J, in Fig. 4. Where 
the neck is slit bend the head 
down and let the sides- of 
the head lap over the out¬ 
side of the neck. One side 
of the head on one side of 
the neck, the other side of 
the head on the other side of the neck. Slip the two 
halves of the bottom of the neck over the left-hand 
end of the rooster’s body and run a short piece of 
broom-straw through the hole A in the neck into and 
through the hole A in the body and out through the 












The Goose Pond. 2. The Chicken Yard. 











HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 373 


hole m the other side of the neck. Cut all of your 
broom-straws almost one inch long and cut one end 
of each straw into a point so that it will slip easily 
through the holes. 


SIMPLE RULES FOR FEATHERS. 

The roaster’s neck will move on its 
straw joint and you can make him stretch 
his head and lift or lower his head as you 
like. Cut the feathered end of the roost¬ 
er’s tail in strips as you see it in Fig. 4, 
then cut along the folded edge to divide 
the middle strip in half. Open out the 
tail now and curl the feathers, all one way, 
by drawing them lightly, one at a time, 
over the blade of your scissors. Bend the 
feathers down at the slit marked J in the 
tail, just as you bent the head down over the neck. 
Cut a short slit along the folded edge at the point of 
the tail where you see the heavy line in Fig. 4, then 
slip the two sides of the points over the rooster’s 
body, one-half of the point on one side of the body, 
the other half of the point on the other side of the 




body, and run a broom-straw through the hole B in 
the tail and the hole B in the body. Now your rooster 
can lift his tail proudly as he does when lie is master 
of the roost, or he can drop it until the feathers trail 
on the ground, as he does when he has been whipped 
in a battle with another cock. 















374 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


YELLOW AND WHITE CHICKENS. 

Fig. 5 shows the hen and one of the little chickens. 
Make a number of hens and ever so many little 
chickens. If you use yellow envelopes for some of 

of brown paper it will 
give variety and make 
the Chicken Yard look 
very natural. Cut the 
hen’s body, Fig. 6, like 
the roosters, only make 
it a little smaller; and 
cut the hen’s neck and 
head like the roosters, 
but make the neck 
shorter and not quite 
so wide at the bottom. 
Cut the hen’s three- 
cornered tail like Fig. 
8, and at the lower 
point cut a short slit 
along the fold, like the slit you cut in the rooster’s tail. 
Cut a slit in the neck where you see the slit marked 7, 
in Fig. 7, and punch a hole where there is a hole 
marked C in Fig. 7. Punch a hole for the hen’s eyes 
where you see it in Fig. 7. Punch two holes in the 
hen’s body as you see them at 
C and D, in Fig. 6, then punch 
a hole in the lower part of the 
tail where it is marked D, in Fig. 

8. Bend the hen’s head down at 
the slit in the neck just as you 
bent the rooster’s head, then 
tit the neck on the body and run 
a broom-straw through the hole C in the neck and 
the hole C in the body. Slip the two halves of the 
point of the tail over the hen’s body and run a broom- 
straw through the hole D in the tail and the hole D 
in the body. Now you can raise and lower the hen’s 
head and tail just as you can the rooster’s. 



your hens and make others 



Fig. 5. 












HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 375 


A HEN WITH A HUNDRED CHICKS. 

Make your little chickens like Fig. 9. You see the 
chicken has no broom-straw joints, but is cut out 
whole from a folded piece of paper with 
the fold running along its back from head 
to tail. 

HOW TO MAKE A TURKEY. 

Fig. 10 is the turkey-cock. He shoma 
be larger than the rooster, because a real 
turkey-cock is always larger than a real 
rooster. Make his body like Fig. 11. Cut 
wings like Fig. 12, cut a head and neck like 




Fig. 13, and cut a spread tail like Fig. 14. Punch 
the hole E through the body (Fig. 11); punch the 

hole E through the 
wings (Fig. 12), and 
punch the hole E 
through the neck (Fig. 
13). (Cut a narrow slot 
in the right-hand end of 
the turkey’s body like 
the slot marked F, in 
Fig. 11. This slot is 
merely a slit with a 
little sliver cut out 
which makes the open¬ 
ing wider. Cut two slits 
in the neck, one just 
back of the turkey’s 
eye and one a little farther down (Fig. 13). The two 
slits in the neck give a natural bend to the head. At 
the lower point of the tail cut a narrow slot like F 





















376 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


in Fig. 14. Put the wings on the body like a saddle, 
one wing on one side of the body the other wing on 
the other side of the body, then over the wings slip 
the neck and run a broom-straw through the holes E 
in the neck, E in the wings and E in the body. Slide 
the slot F in the tail into the slot F in the body, and 



there is your turkey with 
wings true to life. 



spread tail and drooping 


A PATTERN OF A GOOSE. 

The picture of the Goose Pond shows a flock of 
geese, all made like Fig. 15. The pond is a piece of 
broken glass. Plain win¬ 
dow glass looks like water 
if it is put over something 
dark and a piece of look¬ 
ing glass makes perfect 
water. Some of the geese 
are swimming on the glass pond, some are 
walking in and walking out of the water, 
while the goose-boy watches them from the 
bank. Fig. 16 shows how to cut the body of 
the goose which is different from that of the rooster 
and hen, because the back slopes downward to the 
tail as the little chicken’s back slopes. Make the body 
almost two and three-quarter inches long, for a real 
goose is quite large, and make its neck with the 
head almost two and a half inches long. Cut two 
slits in the neck as you see them in Fig. 17, punch 

















HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 377 

the hole G in the neck (Fig. 17) and punch the hole G 
m the body (Fig. 16), then bend the neck at the two 
s its and fasten the neck to the body with a broom- 

straw put through the 
hole G in the neck and 
the hole G in the body. 
Try moving the goose’s 
head and neck and see 
in how many positions 
you can put them. You 
can raise them, you can 
lower them, you can 
throw the head far back 
almost like a swan’s, 
and you can stretch the 
neck out in front, lower 
it a little and lift the 
head on the neck as a 
goose does when it runs at you hissing. Make a whole 
flock of geese, the more you have the more natural 
they will look. 



GEESE AND DUCKS ON A 
GLASS POND. 

As a rule the toy 
geese that will stand on 
their feet, will not also 
swim, but your geese 
will, not on real water, of course, but on the 
glass pond. Bend in the feet and legs of your 
goose, and tuck them up under the body; then 
your goose will rest on the glass water, and be 
reflected in it just as a real goose rests on real 
water, and is pictured in it upside down. 










PART II, 

Work. 


Sand and Clay Work. 

THE ATTRACTIVENESS OF MUD PIES. 

is hardly possible to let the baby make mud 
kjgL pies in the home, whenever he wants to, and as 
long as he likes. He needs something as plastic 
as mud, however, for his first hand craft. His fat 
fingers are just beginning to feel their latent power 
and he craves some soft material which will offer no 
resistance to his grasp and with which he can model 
some of the familiar objects that he knows and loves 
in his nursery or outside in the garden. 

Sea sand is the best material for the very young 
child’s first educational hand work, and after he has 
learned to use his fingers with some skill in this clean, 
fascinating dirt, he can be given a lump of modeling 
clay. 

A SAND BOX FOR THE NURSERY. 

Two or three large bags of white sand which may 
be bought at a feed store will be a sufficient home sup¬ 
ply for an entire season of mud-pie work for the 
nursery child. It comes in cloth sacks which hold 
each a bushel and sell for a very small amount. A 
home-made sand-box that will cost practically nothing 
can hold the sand. Select a good-sized, strong wood 
packing-box and cut it down to one-third its original 
height. Plane and sand-paper the outside until it is 
very smooth, and then paint it a soft green in color or 
a bright yellow which will harmonize with the sunny 
corner of the child’s playroom where it is to stand. 
The inside of this home sand-box may be lined with 

378 



HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 379 


zinc by a tinsmith, or just the inner corners can be 
reinforced with tin and the whole treated to two or 
three coats of white enamel paint which will make the 
box water-tight. A carpenter will make legs for the 
box, or four casters may be inserted, one at each 
corner, so that the sand-box can be rolled from place 
to place at will. Beneath the box and protecting the 
carpet there may be a square of denim which will catch 
any stray sand that spills. 

EVEN A TIN TRAY WILL DO. 

It is not necessary to have even this home-made 
box. A tin tray placed on the child’s low work table 
will hold sufficient sand for his first modeling. The 
sand-tray shown in the picture is a large agate-ware 
dripping-pan, the size used in the kitchen for an 
unusually large roast. 

The sand-box or sand-tray should be filled two- 
thirds full, and sprinkled over the top with a watering 
pot, making the sand damp enough to mould readily in 
little fingers. If a tray is used, it will be easy to 
replace the sand often with a fresh supply, which 
is always an advantage on the side of hygiene. 

With a low chair placed in front of his sand, sleeves 
rolled up, and covered with a big apron, the child is 
ready for his first educational digging, the longing for 
which he inherited from his ancestor, Adam. 

Making balls of sand is an excellent beginning in 
this work and gives a child wrist and hand control, 
and dexterity of finger. A quantity of the loose sand 
is grasped in one hand, and carefully molded into 
shape with the other. As soon as a ball is completed 
it is laid in the box and another one is attempted, 
the child’s aim being to see how many perfect balls 
he can complete without crushing one. As greater skill 
in this first modeling is obtained, one ball may be 
laid on top of the other, making a sand man, or a num¬ 
ber can be placed side by side, in imitation of a stone 
wall, in the sand-box. 


380 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


PHYSICAL CULTURE FOR WRISTS AND HANDS. 

Next, the sand work is continued as the child learns 
how to smooth down the entire surface, making a level 
tract of ground, similar to the beach which happily, so 
many children know and love so well, and this will 
form a resting place for his tiniest toys. Levelling the 
sand and pressing it flat gives strength to the child’s 
wrists and arms, and trains his eye to see correctly, 
and his hands to follow the impulse of his brain. 

All sorts of delightful plays may enliven this work; 
a toy train, some block houses, or the Noah’s Ark 
shown in the illustration, may be placed in the sand, 
giving it the appearance of a diminutive landscape. 

Water-courses, hills, mountains, and valleys may 
be laid out as the sand is pushed away from the sur¬ 
face of the box, piled high and shaped, or hollowed out 
to indicate land depressions. The pebbles that a child 
gathers in the garden and the store of shells he brought 
home from the beach, furnish added material for his 
sand work as he outlines his lakes or puts rows of 
them to indicate a bay or a strip of beach which he 
has dug in his sand-box. Tiny green twigs may be 
stuck in the sand to represent a forest, or the child 
can lay out the streets of a miniature village, indicating 
parks and roadways by means of twigs. 

Soon this sand modeling will have proved so 
productive of skill in the use of his hands, that the 
child is ready for more advanced work, and a lump 
of clay may be given him. 

PREPARED CLAY FOR MODELING. 

Prepared clay is best for home use, and is to be 
found in any art store. It comes in beautiful dull 
colors, and is mixed with oil, which makes it pliable 
and permits of its possible use over and over again. A 
bread board over the top of which a piece of white 
enamel cloth is stretched and tacked makes a very 
satisfactory home clay board for a child, and when 



1. Home Clay Work. 


2. Sand Tray. 























HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 381 


lie lias finished with it, it may be washed with a damp 
cloth and placed behind the nursery door, ready for 
next time. 

Like sand-modeling, the child begins his clay work 
with making balls. Holding a lump of clay the size 
of a goose egg between his palms, he is taught to roll 
the clay round and round by a rotary motion of the 
hands until it begins to grow symmetrical and round. 
Using his thumbs, the child smooths and rubs away 
any cracks or depressions in the clay ball until it is 
absolutely spherical. A broad flat knife will help in 
finishing the work, but using the fingers gives greater 
skill and hand training to the little sculptor. The com¬ 
pleted ball can be transformed by a few deft touches 
of the childs ? fingers into almost any familiar object. 

A combination of balls makes the snow man shown 
in the illustration. The apple is a type of countless 
other fruits which a child can copy with his lump of 
clay. To make it, a clay ball is moulded first, then a 
few deft twists of the child’s fingers indicate the stem 
and blossom end of the fruit. The stem is made by 
inserting a thin twist of clay and pressing it with the 
thumbs where it joins the apple that there may be no 
cracks or depressions. In similar fashion a tomato, 
an orange, and a pumpkin are modeled. By building 
up a clay ball, a pear is made, and a number of smaller 
clay balls, made perfectly round like marbles and 
grouped carefully on a flat plaque, made also of clay, 
will imitate closely a bunch of luscious grapes. 

PRETTY POTTERY DESIGNS. 

When the child has learned to model perfect balls 
and as many objects as he can see in the home world 
which have a sphere for their foundation, he may try 
moulding cubes as a means of making objects which 
have corners and edges. Holding a good-sized lump 
of clay in his hand the child presses it very gently 
on his clay-board, securing one flat surface. Turning 


382 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


the clay on the opposite side lie repeats the process, 
making another face. In this manner, the clay is 
pressed softly on each of six sides, making the six 
faces, the corners and the edges of the cube. This 
may be a difficult task at first for little hands, but 
once it is accomplished the perfectly shaped clay cube 
will be a most satisfactory foundation for many inter¬ 
esting objects. It may be hollowed out with the clay 
knife, and baked in the sun, making a tiny jardiniere 
for a fern. A number of smaller clay cubes with a 
half cube upon the top of each for a roof may stand 
in the child’s sand-tray, and represent little mud, 
houses. Familiar objects, as a table, the chair shown 
in the picture, a work-box similar to mother’s, or the 
baby’s block, can be modeled by a child with the cube 
for a basis. 


HOW TO MAKE A COIL OF CLAY. 

The method used by primitive races in making 
coiled pottery will delight a child, and give him much 
hand training. A bit of clay is grasped between the 
palms of the hands and rolled into a long, cylindrical 
form. For very simple coiled work, the child may just 
join the ends of the coils, making “doughnuts,” or 
baker’s rolls of them. Later a number of linked clay 
coils may be combined to form a chain. Lastly, the long 
coils may be twisted from a small centre, gradually 
growing in size and built up higher and higher with 
the fingers until a bowl, or a flower jar, or a really 
beautiful vase is completed. If these objects are 
allowed to harden, they may be painted with enamel 
colors or the oil paints which come for stencilling pur¬ 
poses, and will make charming birthday or holliday 
presents for the child to give away. 

When a child has learned how to make these three 
primitive forms with his lump of clay, he will find 
that he can combine them, and model more involved 
and difficult objects. His visit to the country and 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 383 


grandfather’s barnyard will be lived over again, as he 
models a clay pig with a modified cube form for his 
body, a shaped sphere for his head, and a tail made 
of a twisted coil of clay. Balls of clay may be moulded 
into tiny round chicks, ducks, and cats. And even the 
flowers that a child picked in the fields may be repro¬ 
duced on clay plaques, making beautiful decorations 
for the home. 


Paper Folding and Cutting. 

^^^^HEN the little fingers which have begun to 
SVi'W; want a new busy work, paper-folding will be 
acquire skill through the use of sand and clay 
found a delightful form of home work, as well as a 
means of making gifts for father and mother. 

The materials for this work are colored squares 
of paper measuring five by five inches or, better still, 
seven by seven inches, which is an excellent size for 
making gifts. This paper can be bought at a school 
supply shop in packages of assorted colors, each 
package containing one hundred sheets. The paper 
may be found also, in large sheets, and cut into squares 
at home; but the value of paper-folding work for a 
child, lies in the precision with which it is done, and 
as the package papers are cut by machinery, it is 
best to use these rather than attempt to cut the 
squares. 

Each square which is to be folded and creased into 
something very pretty, should be laid on a flat surface, 
as a book, desk, or table; in folding, the corners and 
edges must be placed together very exactly and the 
creases made with the child’s thumb so that the 
finished object may be true, beautiful and neat. 

There are a number of folds to be learned first 
that are necessary as a foundation for the finished 
object. 



384 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


With the square of red, yellow, or soft tan-colored 
paper laid on the table in front of the child, the front 
edge should be folded to the back edge, and the right- 

hand edge to the left- 
hand edge, the front 
corner to the back cor¬ 
ner and the right to the 
left corner, making 
lines, as shown in Fig. 
1 (working drawing). 

Where the lines 
cross they mark the 
center of the paper, 
and, opening the square 
wide, each corner is 
folded to this center, as 
shown in Figs. 2 and 3 
(working drawings), until a smaller, double square 
results, as shown in Fig. 4 (working drawing). This 
form is laid flat on the child’s working table and the 
folded corners are bent 
back on the under side, 
making the form shown 
in Figs. 5 and 6 (work¬ 
ing drawings), which 
may be transformed 
into almost any beauti¬ 
ful design. 

The first picture 
frame seen in the illus¬ 
tration (Fig. 1), is 
made from a square of 
paper folded as shown 
in the drawings and 
laid on the child’s working table with the four loose 
squares made by doubling the corners back, on top. 
As the child begins working on it, tis paper has the 
appearance of Fig. 6 (working drawing) in the draw- 



\ 

1 


/ 

\ 

1 


/ 

\ 

1 


/ 

\ 

1 


/ 

\ 



/ 

\ 

1 


/ 

\ 

1 

/ 



V 




/'\ 



/ 

1 

\ 


/ 

1 


\ 

s 

1 


\ 

\ 

/ 

1 


\ 

/ 

1 


\ 

/ 

1 


\ 


Fig. 1. 


* 












HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 385 


ings. There are four loose corners meeting in the 
center of the folded paper. Taking each one of these 
corners between the thumb and forefinger, the child 
folds them straight back to the corners of the folded 
square and then to the center again, making a new, 



folded, guide-line. Each edge of the loose squares is 
then folded back along this guide-line making a point 
in the center. These folded points are then creased 
straight back along the guide-lines leaving a square 
space in the center for a picture, and making a most 
attractive frame, which may be mounted upon a card¬ 
board back and given to mother 
for her birthday. 

The second folded-paper 
frame shown in the illustration, 

Fig. 2, is made in precisely the 
same way as the first one, save 
that the folded edges of the loose, 
center squares are not folded 
back, but are left turned toward 
the center, forming a four- 
pointed star which holds the 
picture. 

The folded rosettes marked 3 and 4 in the 
illustration are formed by making the original folds 
shown in Figs. 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 (working drawings), 
opening the entire square, and then pressing the 
center of each side to the center of the square, which 



VOL. 1—25 







386 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


leaves four loose, folded squares on the top. The 
folded corners of each of these squares may be bent 
back, as shown in the first rosette, making a six-sided 
ornament, four of which meet at the center, or the 
folded edges may be turned under, making the kite 
form shown in the last illustration. These folded 




rosettes may be used by the child, in alternating tints, 
to make a border for the walls of his room, or small 
ones may be pasted to a cardboard picture-frame 
forming a dainty decoration. 

These squares of paper may be folded also so as 
to represent to the child certain objects which he knows 
in his own little world and which have an added charm 
for him as he makes them because they are connected 
with his every-day living. 

The four lower illustrations show the method of 
folding a boat and a kite. 

FASCINATING KITES AND BOATS. 

With the square of paper laid carefully on the 
child’s working table, the edges and corners are 
folded together, as shown in Fig 1, of the working 
drawings. Two opposite corners are then held in the 
child’s two hands and they are brought together, mak¬ 
ing a smaller folded square which has two points in 
the center, and creased squares on each side. This is 
the foundation fold for the boat. Holding the folded, 
closed corner directly in front of him on the table, the 
child folds down, at the top, the corner of the paper 














Fi^.YII 

BOAT 


Paper Folding and Cuttini 


/// ^^ 1 x . 

ll^V 

^ Fi$ H ^ 


g ^\/r 

























HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 387 


which lies uppermost until it touches this closed 
corner. Then the paper is turned over on the table 
and the opposite, top corner is fold down in just the 
same way, making Fig. 2 (working drawing) of the 
lower illustration. Fig. 3 of the working drawings of 
the lower illustrations is the next fold, and is made 
by folding the closed corner of the square up as far 
as the creased line made by the last fold, and then 
folding in the two bottom corners even with the last 
fold. The folded boat with its two real little sails 
stands erect on the child’s table when it is finished, 
and a whole fleet of similar boats can be made and 
sailed across the nursery floor or over the table. 

To make the kite shown in the picture, a square of 
paper is folded, edge to edge and corner to corner, 
as in making all these previous forms; then, as it lies 
flat on the table with one corner in front of the child, 
two edges which meet at this front corner are folded 
up, just touching the creased line that runs from the ' 
upper to the lower corners, and completing the little 
folded kite. 

Work in paper always suggests cutting to the little 
child. Blunt scissors, five inches long, and a few sheets 
of colored paper or even wrapping paper will fur* 
nish busy work for a child at home and give him at 
the same time hand and eye training. 

FIRST LESSONS IN PAPER CUTTING. 

Snipping paper into very tiny pieces should be 
the child’s first lesson in paper-cutting, as it gives 
him practise in the use of his tools without too great 
stress being laid on the finish of an object. The 
snipped bits of paper can be used to stuff a doll’s 
pillow or be loaded into a toy cart for a miniature load 
of hay. 

Following this work in snipping, a child should be 
taught how to fringe paper as a second step in his 


388 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


lessons in the use of scissors. Fringed strips of 
brown paper which he finishes may be wrapped and 
tied around the edge of a twig or meat skewer, making 
a diminutive broom. Fringed green paper may be 
twined and tied about a long twig for a distance of 
three-quarters of its length, making a little tree for 
his sand-box or to stick in a spool standard and place 
in front of his toy barn. 

Following fringing, a child may cut circles and 
squares free-hand, or spirals which may be suspended 
in the open window where they dance and flutter with 
every breeze and greatly delight the little folks. 

A LESSON IN CUTTING OUT PICTURES. 

Next, simple outlines drawn by mother on a sheet 
cf white paper may be cut by the child, who carefully 
follows the lines with his scissors. These outlines may 
be found in a toy picture-book and traced and may be 
barnyard animals, soldiers, trees, leaves, or fruits. 
After this training, the child can experiment with 
free-hand cutting of simple objects and it will be dis¬ 
covered that he has acquired almost as much skill with 
his scissors as has an artist with a brush. He will 
have the objects, if familiar ones be suggested to him, 
so well in mind that he can cut them even if no lines 
are drawn on his paper. 

Easy objects for a child to cut free-hand will be 
leaves, various tools, familiar animals, ships, houses, 
caps, stockings, shoes, dresses, dolls, flowers and toys. 
As the child cuts a realistic object he may be allowed 
to paste it in a special scrap-book kept for his cut 
pictures and as he looks them over and finds improve¬ 
ment in the later ones, he will be encouraged to try 
even harder to acquire skill with his scissors. 

An especially delightful use to which the child’s 
paper folding and cutting may be put in the home is 
to illustrate the stories which are told him. When he 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 389 


hears the story of the Argonauts or Columbus he may 
fold a fleet of toy boats, and this work makes the in¬ 
cidents of the story even more realistic to him. A 
story of the wind and its work may be fixed more 
firmly in his mind by means of his folded kites. The 
possibilities of paper-cutting are unlimited as a help 
in story-telling. With his big sheet of paper and his 
scissors beside him, the story of the Tin Soldier is 
made twice as fascinating as the child cuts out an 
army of soldiers; the familiar characters in the story 
of the Ugly Duckling will take form under his hands, 
and even the Three Bears, and the trees in the forest 
through which Red Riding Hood journeyed may be 
cut from paper by little fingers. 

Hand skill and an eye trained to mathematical 
precision may be cultivated by the child’s home 
paper-folding and cutting, preparing him for more 
difficult hand work later. 


Cardboard Construction Work. 

is only a step from flat paper-folding to built 
)3L up work with heavy paper or cardboard, by means 
of which a child can learn how to measure, cut 
accurately, and make useful objects at home. The 
materials needed are book-cover paper, heavy brown 
wrapping paper, a kind of manilla-colored paper, 
known as oak tag, or bristol board. A pair of scissors 
is necessary, and a pot of paste. With these spread 
out in front of him on his working-table, the child is 
ready to graduate from the paper-folding described in 
the last chapter to the making of objects which have 
height and form. 

A number of squares of paper should be cut which 
may be any size desired between four and nine inches. 




390 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


A square that measures under four inches or over nine 
is difficult for a child to handle. 

Each square from which an object is to be made 

should be folded accu¬ 
rately and carefully 
into sixteen smaller 
squares. This is ac¬ 
complished by laying 
the paper fiat on the 
child’s table, an edge 
being in front. The 
front edge is folded 
even with the back 
edge, creased, and then 
the paper is opened 
again showing the 
crease. Touching, and 
even with the crease, the front and back edges are 
folded to meet it. The paper is once more opened out, 
and the right hand edge is folded to meet the left hand 
edge, making a crease that runs from the front to the 
back of the paper. Then 
the right and left-hand 
edges are folded to 
meet this crease divid¬ 
ing the paper into six¬ 
teen squares, as shown 
in Fig. 1 (working 
drawing), and making 
a foundation for all 
sorts of attractive ob¬ 
jects. 

The easiest form 
with which a child may 
begin this paper con¬ 
struction work is the square box shown in the illustra¬ 
tion. A square of heavy paper is folded into sixteen 
squares, very carefully, because any unevenness of 




• 





V 


1 



1 


1 

* 


1 


1 

i 


1 


1 

i 


1 

ft 

I 





r 

i 


1 


i 

i 


• 


i 

i 


1 


i 

i 

-- • 



i 

* 

i 


1 


t 

i 


1 


i 

i 


» 


i 

i 


1 


t 

i 







1 


I 

} 

• 


» 


i 

i 

i 


1 


t 

i 


1 


i 

i 


Fig. 1. Square folded into 16 small squares. 



















HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 391 


crease or line will spoil the symmetry of the finished 
object. When all the creases have been made, two 
cuts, each one square long and two squares apart, 
are made in opposite sides of the folded paper, 
as shown in Fig. 2 (working drawing). The loose 
squares which remain at the corners are next carefully 
coated with paste and brought together, until they 
exactly meet, when they are pressed down upon the 
uncut squares and held with the fingers until the 
paste is dry. The form which results may be used 
for many delightful purposes. A number of these 
square boxes will serve for holding sweets at holiday 
time. Others may have strips of cardboard pasted to 

the top for handles 
and, lined with dainty 
tints of tissue paper, 
they may hold wild 
flowers on May day. 
Still others, may be in¬ 
verted, and with legs 
cut out, they will serve 
for tables in a dolFs 
house. 

Fig. 3. Cuts and folds for oblong box. Making an oblong 

box is the next step in this work of cardboard 
construction. A square that has been folded into 
sixteen small squares is laid flat on the child’s table 
and, cutting carefully on one of the creases, a row 
of four squares is cut off and discarded. Then, in 
the two shorter sides of the oblong piece of paper 
that remains, two cuts, each one square long and 
one square apart, are made, as shown in Fig. 3 
(working drawing). These cut squares are then 
folded down upon the center square on each side, mak¬ 
ing an oblong box similar to the one shown in the 
illustration. Mother will like to fit a number of these 
little oblong boxes if they are made of bristol board 
or very heavy paper into her sewing-machine drawers 











392 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


to hold buttons and hooks, and spools of thread and 
twist. By the addition of half circles of cardboard cut 
from heavier paper and glued to each end of one ol 

these inverted boxes, a 
dolls’ cradle is made, 
and a head and foot 
board cut from the 
same heavy paper may 
be glued to another 
box, making it into a 
diminutive bed. 

Next, in the child’s 
cardboard construction 
work, comes the mak¬ 
ing of a box form which 
is cubical in shape. The 
foundation square is 
folded as in the case of others into sixteen small 
squares. When the creases are made one row of four 
squares is cut off just as for the oblong box, and in 
addition a row of three squares is cut off, as well, 
leaving a piece of paper 
upon which there are 
only nine squares. 

Cuts, each one square 
long and one square 
apart, are made in this 
piece of paper, as 
shown in Fig. 4 (work¬ 
ing drawing), and the 
loose squares are 
lapped upon each other 
and over the center 
square on each side, 
being pasted in place 
there. The box which results is the exact shape of 
a cube and makes a still more satisfactory basket 
or receptacle for sweets than did the square box. 






















HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 393 


A second cube box may be constructed an eighth 
of an inch larger than the first one, and when the 
paste is perfectly dry it can be cut down to one 
quarter its original height and used for a cover. 
The child who is clever at using his box of nursery 
paints may decorate this little covered box, making 
it even more attractive. White water-color paper, 
or the quality of rough white bristol board known to 
artists as pebble board should be used if the box is 
to be decorated, and no color can be put on until the 
paste used in the 'construction of the box is perfectly 
dry. 

ATTRACTIVE HOME MADE EASTER GIFTS. 

A box will be very dainty if tinted with a delicate 
wash, pale green, blue, or yellow. These make 
attractive Easter gifts if each box is lined with either 
cotton batting or fringed white tissue paper and tilled 
with little sugar eggs. Others of these boxes which 
the child makes may be decorated with all-over pat¬ 
terns of tiny rosebuds, buttercups, daisies, or even a 
simple vine pattern of green leaves drawn in pencil 
by mother or sister, and filled in with water-color by 
the child who made the box. These make most dainty 
bandboxes to hold dolls’ liats. 

The last form, the house that is shown in the illus¬ 
tration, is more difficult than either of the box forms, 
but, once learned, will afford a child much hand train¬ 
ing, and a large amount of pleasure as he makes 
barns, whole villages full of cardboard models of 
little residences, and even models of schools and 
churches. 

A square of heavy paper larger than that used for 
any of the box forms is folded in sixteen squares and 
opened as in the case of the other papers. In each of 
two opposite sides three cuts are made, each one 
square long and one square apart, as shown in Fig 5 
(working drawing). This cutting makes four loose 
squares on two sides of the paper by means of which 


394 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


the little building is shaped and built into realistic 
form. On each cut side, the two center squares are 
overlapped, and pasted together, one exactly on top 
of the other. This step in the construction makes the 
house eaves. The two remaining loose squares are 
brought together, lapped part way over each other and 
pasted to the eaves of the house. 

Before the pasting is done, doors and windows may 
be drawn on the uncut side of the folded square, or 
they can be cut out with the child’s scissors, making 
the little building very real indeed. * This, too, as well 
as the boxes, can be painted with water-colors, a wash 
of yellow, gray, green, or red adding much to the 
effect of the finished object. If it is to be a toy barn, 
a very wide doorway with double doors can be drawn 
or cut in one side. 

HOW TO CONSTRUCT TRAINS OF CARS. 

Careful, precise work in this cardboard construc¬ 
tion helps a child very materially in his school work, 
and each object which he makes can be put to a real 
use in the home. When these several forms, the 
square, oblong, cubical, and house form which have 
been described, are learned, a child will discover how 
to vary them, change them into different objects and 
exercise his own inventive powers in adding to and 
making them more interesting. Especially is the 
oblong box susceptible of change and transformation. 
Four circles cut from cardboard and pasted to the 
sides and a strip of paper pasted to the front for a 
handle turns it into a little cart. A number of oblong 
box forms having cardboard wheels can be coupled 
together with string to make a train of cars. One 
box may be stood on end and serve for a grandfather’s 
clock if a paper circle, having a clock-face drawn on 
it be pasted to the front. If it rests on one long side 
and there is a strip of paper pasted to the back and 
short sides it makes a diminutive sofa for a doll. 



CARDBOARD CONSTRUCTION WORK. 


1. A Doll’s House 


2. Square, Oblong, and Cubical Boxes 




















handwork for the little ones. 395 


The box form that is cubical in shape is an excel¬ 
lent foundation for a set of doll-house chairs. Each 
cardboard cube is inverted, and a straight strip is 
pasted to the back forming the chair back. Half circles 
of cardboard may be cut and pasted to one of these 
chairs for rockers. It is possible for a child to make 
himself an entire set of home models with these box 
forms, training hand and eye to work together. 

PAPER HORSES AND HAY AND TREES. 

A child can combine this cardboard modelling with 
the paper cutting described in the previous chapters. 
The cardboard cart which a child makes can be filled 
full of the fringed paper hay, and harnessed to the 
shafts there may be the paper horse which the child 
cut. The miniature trees described, made of fringed 
paper and twigs, may surround a paper barn or a 
group of cardboard houses, and the wheels and rockers 
which made the box-forms into carts, trains, chairs 
and cradles, can be cut free-hand, giving added train¬ 
ing to eye and finger. 

In using cardboard or the heaviest quality of con¬ 
struction paper, it may be found necessary to go over 
the creased guide lines with a ruler and pen knife, 
laying the ruler along each fold and cutting partway 
through the paper with the pen knife. This makes a 
cleaner, sharper fold and gives a better form to any 
objects made. 


Weaving. 

[ILDREN instinctively like to weave, in a crude, 
primitive sort of way, just as did their ancestors, 
the people of primitive races who had to make 
their own tent-cloth and rugs, and their grandmothers 
did in more recent years when they wove homespun 
fabrics on a home-made loom. One can hardly tell 
what is the fascination connected with the art of weav- 




396 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


ing, but it lias come down through the years to us of 
the present day and proves most delightful for little 
fingers and a means of giving child hands a new 
method of acquiring dexterity and skill. 

MATERIAL FOR WEAVING IN THE GARDEN. 

Materials for the child weaver are found right at 
hand. As he plays in the woods, fields, or garden he 
may braid grasses and weave the braids into tiny 
mats, about the edges of which there may be a border 
of daisies or clover blooms. In the house, strips of 
colored silk or cotton fabrics, a ball of candle wicking, 
a pound of colored raffia, or a few skeins of coarse 
carpet yarn or golf worsted will give him occupation 
and a means of making crude but really artistic 
fabrics, dolls’ rugs, dolls’ blankets, and wash-cloths. 
It is possible, too, for a child to make his own loom, 
combining manual training with the skill he acquires 
in combining colors with artistic effect in the finished 
product. 

The simplest loom, and one which a child will be 
able to make himself, is constructed from a slate 
frame. The slate is carefully knocked out, leaving 
the frame strong and intact. A row of very small 
nails is hammered in on the two opposite, narrow 
sides of the slate half an inch apart; the nails known 
to carpentry as wire nails will serve well for this 
purpose. 

HOW TO MAKE THE WEAVING FRAME. 

If a slate-frame is not available for making a loom, 
four strips of planed and sand-papered lathe can be 
measured, sawed, and nailed together at the corners 
to form a loom. As in making the previous loom 
there should be a row of nails half an inch apart on 
two opposite sides. For a beginner in the art of weav¬ 
ing, four by six inches will be a good size for the 
loom and in the first weaving it will be found better 
to use the fingers. 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 397 


An old wooden box measuring five by nine inches 
is a good substitute for a loom. The bottom may be 
taken out and the sides reinforced. Carpet tacks 
driven in at quarter-inch distances on the two narrow 
sides form supports for the warp. 

The loom shown in the illustration is perhaps the 
most satisfactory of all for the child’s real art-weav¬ 
ing. It is a manufactured product and may be obtained 
for as little as thirty cents. The bar, by means of which 
the woof strands can be pushed up, assists greatly in 
making the finished fabric compact and firm, and the 
wooden bodkin attached to the frame helps when the 
weaving is done with fine strands of worsted or cord. 
The four types of weaving; raffia, wool, worsted, and 
rag, shown in the illustrations, were all done on a 
similar loom resulting in a table-mat, a doll’s blanket, 
and two rugs for the doll’s house. 

Raffia is a product of dried grass which may be 
bought in the natural color, tan, or in lovely dyed 
shades of rose, greens, and blues at a few cents a 
pound. A pound of raffia will make a dozen or more 
mats. The one illustrated is made of tan and green 
raffia. The loom is strung with warp threads of five 
green strands, and five tan, alternating. Each strand 
is knotted about the blocks in the loom, loosely, so 
that it can be easily untied. The woof threads are 
woven in, five green and five tan, alternately, and each 
one is knotted to the warp at the beginning and the 
end of the weaving, finishing the edge. When the 
weaving is finished the warp strands are untied and 
knotted to the first and last woof strands, and the ends 
which remain on all four sides of the mat are fringed, 
as shown in the picture. 

HOME SPUN BLANKETS FOR DOLLY. 

The doll’s blanket pictured, is made in the same 
manner as the section of weaving shown on the illus¬ 
trated loom. The thread is coarse carpet-wool thread 


398 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


which comes on large spools. The color effect of the 
blanket will be enhanced by stringing the loom with 
double threads of contrasting colors for the warp; 
red and green, red and brown, or yellow and brown. 
The weaving is done carefully, with a tapestry needle, 
and a long double strand of the thread, and a new set 
of strands is started also from the under side. In 
this way, the blanket-edge is finished as the weaving 
progresses. The loom is so made that the end sup¬ 
ports slip out, leaving the ends of the fabric finished. 
A strip of plain color is woven in at either end to 
form a border. 

The rugs for a doll’s house shown in the illustra¬ 
tion follow the general method of weaving used for 
the mat and the little blanket. In making the worsted 
rug, golf yarn in a very coarse quality is the best 
material, or Germantown wool may be used. The ends 
of the warp strands are knotted loosely at the ends 
of the mat as in the case of the raffia mat, so that they 
may be untied and used for fringe. The woof strands 
are passed under and over the border following the 
method of the blanket weaving. 

A RAG RUG FOR A DOLL HOUSE. 

The little rag rug has warp strands of common 
white wrapping cord, and into this foundation, strips 
of red calico are woven with the fingers. At distances 
of three or four inches in the weaving, white strips 
are woven in. A fascinating dolPs rag rug is made 
by sewing together strips of various colored cloth 
from the scraps to be found in mother’s piece-bag, 
and weaving them together “hit or miss” after the 
manner of our grandmothers. 

The home-made loom constructed from a slate 
frame, strips of lathe, or an old wooden box will be 
found quite satisfactory for weaving wash-cloths, and 
the finished cloths will be perfectly strong, durable, 
and a most useful article in the home nursery. Candle- 
wicking makes a very serviceable and durable ;wash- 



WEAVING. 


1. Home Loom for a Child. 

2. Home Woven Ku<>s which a Child can make. 




















































































HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 399 


cloth. The first step in making it is to string the 
loom carefully with a warp made of lengths of candle- 
wicking. To do this, one end of the ball of wicking 
is tied to one of the end nails in the loom and then the 
wicking is carried to and around the two opposite 
nails, then back and around the next two and so back 
and forth until it is all strung. The woof is also of 
candle-wicking, threaded in a coarse wooden needle, 
and woven in simple under-and-over design in and 
out of the warp. When a square wash-cloth is finished, 
it is lifted off the loom, and the edges are bound with 
tape to make them secure and strong. A loop of 
braided wicking can be sewed to one corner by means 
of which the wash-cloth can be hung up. 

HOW TO WEAVE A WASH-CLOTH. 

A second wash-cloth can be made by stringing the 
home-made loom with rather narrow strips of white 
cheesecloth for a warp. Into this warp a woof of either 
coarse white darning cotton is woven, or strips of 
cheesecloth similar to that used for the woof. This 
wash-cloth will need to be bound as was the one made 
of candle-wicking. 

By stringing the loom with strips of gay colored 
calico as the cheese-cloth was put on, and weaving into 
this warp strips of calico in gray or a plain color, 
the child can make mother a very serviceable iron- 
holder. When the weaving is completed the finished 
mat makes the top of the iron-holder which should 
be lined with two or three layers of cotton wadding, 
faced round about the edge with a strip of cloth 
similar in color to that used for the woof of the weav¬ 
ing. A brass ring sewed to one corner of the holder 
completes it, and transforms it into a very useful 
kitchen adjunct. 

CORD, CLOTH AND CANDLE-WICKING. 

There are a few general directions a child will need 
to follow in this hand weaving which will help him 


400 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


in making the finished fabric strong, close in texture, 
and a really beautiful thing when it is completed. In 
putting the warp on any of the looms described the 
loom should be strung up as tightly and firmly as is 
possible. The lengths of cord, cloth, candle-wicking, 
yarn or whatever fabric is used for the foundation of 
the weaving, must be tied securely at the beginning 
and then stretched taut and true, over and back, across 
the nails or wire loops on the two opposite sides of 
the frame. Doing this secures a firm back for the 
weaving and avoids any looseness in the finished 
article which might make it pull or tear. 

The second care which a child should exercise in 
his weaving is to put in the woof, also, tight and 
closely. This effect is secured by pushing each strand 
up as soon as it is woven in close to the preceding 
strand. In the case of a slate-frame, this will have to 
be done with the fingers, but if the child has a manu¬ 
factured loom similar to the one shown in the illus¬ 
tration, he can use the bar provided expressly for 
crowding in each strand of the fabric as soon as it is 
woven. 


BEAL INDIAN AND MEXICAN MATS. 

The worsted, yarn, and raffia mats which a child 
can weave on this real little loom may be done in 
some of the old Indian and Mexican patterns if 
colored, contrasting woof strands are put in at certain 
intervals in the weaving. A study of any of the 
blankets and rugs displayed in an Indian shop will 
show a child how simple are the designs and how 
easily he can imitate them in his own weaving. By 
weaving in a pattern of blocks, triangles or even 
straight lines in red, green or yellow in a mat which 
has a warp of gray or tan worsted, the child will 
obtain a really beautiful pattern and a close imitation 
of a real rug. These extra strands which are used 
in making the design in the weaving are left loose 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 401 


on the back of the work and threaded into the body 
of the fabric when the woven textile is removed from 
the loom. 


f \ 

Basketry. 

HOW DAINTY BASKETS ARE MADE. 

S the child inherits a love for weaving fabrics, 
so he will find delight in using his fingers in 
making baskets. The craft is a wonderful one, 
brought down to us from the Indians, and while a 
child may not be able to make, as they did, baskets 
dyed with lovely colors extracted from herbs and 
vegetables, and so carefully woven that they will hold 
water, still he can imitate the Indian basketry with 
a very fair degree of success. He can learn how to 
weave and stitch some simple baskets for holding 
flowers or candy, or mother’s sewing things, gather¬ 
ing the materials for his work in field and forest, and 
working perhaps out under the trees as he makes 
baskets that will serve for holiday presents when the 
winter comes. 

How shall the child begin his basketry work? 

Materials must be considered first. 

If the child is so fortunate as to be able to spend 
the whole, lovely vacation time out in the country, 
long, fine strips of willow from the row of willow trees 
that grow along the brook will serve for the heavy, 
stronger baskets, and strands of sweet grass will be 
flexible and easily handled for the making of smaller, 
sewed baskets. If willow branches and sweet grass 
are not to be found, some rattan may be ordered from 
a school supply shop in any size that one wishes, and 
a pound or so of green raffia will be supplied by the 
same shop and may be used instead of sweet grass, be¬ 
cause it is even more pliable and may be threaded 
into a coarse needle. 



VOL. 1—26. 



402 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


HOW TO USE RATTAN AND RAFFIA. 

Rattan comes from the far off jungles in India 
where it hangs from branch to branch of the trees 
in long festoons. The natives strip it off, wind it into 
huge coils, and it is shipped to the white man’s coun¬ 
try to be woven into veranda furniture and go-carts 
for the baby. It takes a strong man’s fingers to wind 
and bend the rattan into shape for a go-cart, but a 
child can manipulate the finer lengths. In ordering 
rattan for home basketry, numbers two, three, or four, 

•ITT iT • l i • 

Equipped with 
strong scissors, an 
awl, and a coarse 
tapestry needle, the 
child is ready for 
work. He may at¬ 
tempt, first, a sim¬ 
ple, braided basket 
made of raffia or 
sweet grass. 

The material, 
whether raffia or 
sweet grass, should 
first be soaked in 
warm water to make 
it moie flexible. It should next be carefully dried be- 
tween towels, and enough strands selected of equal 
length and thickness to make a braid from one quarter 
to half an inch wide. These strands must be tied 
together at the ends and fastened with a pin or thumb¬ 
tack to the table, chair, or tree where the child is 
working. In braiding the strands, the braid should be 
kept wide, even, and loose. "When new strands are 
needed, they may be spliced in, sailor fashion, and the 
loose ends cut off when the braid, a few yards Ion 0- 
lias been finished. If the raffia lias become dry and 
stiff during the process of braiding, the braid'must 
again be dampened before the basket proper is be<-un 


will be the right sizes. 




HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 403 

MADE WITH A TAPESTRY NEEDLE. 

The tapestry needle is now threaded with a finer 
strand of raffia, knotted at the end. Beginning with 
the knotted end of the raffia braid, a flat, mat-shaped 
bottom for the basket is made by sewing the edges 
of the braid together in spiral fashion. The child’s 
straw sun hat will show how to start sewing the 
basket. When the bottom of the basket is the right 
size, and from tour to six inches is a good size for a 
dainty little flower or berry basket, the braid is bent 
upward at the edge of the bottom and sewed, still 
in the same manner that a straw hat is sewed, to make 
the sides of the basket. When the basket has reached 
the required height the end of the braid is sewed down 
on the inside, and a length of the braided raffia is 
sewed to the basket, making the handle. Contrasting 
colors may be used in the braiding, for raffia may be 
procured in very lovely tints. Two shades of green 
can be braided together, or tan and green, or rose 
color and tan. A braid of different tint can be sewed 
to a plain colored basket at the top for a border which 
will make the little braided basket even more attrac¬ 
tive. It may be round or square in shape as the bot¬ 
tom is shaped in the sewing, and a cover can be made 
in the same fashion that the basket itself was done. 

Willow branches and sweet grass, or rattan and 
raffia may be combined to make another style of basket. 

HOW INDIANS USE RAFFIA. 

Fine reed, in numbers two or three, should be 
soaked for some time in quite warm water that it may 
bend more easily. One long strand of raffia is then 
threaded in the coarse tapestry needle. A No. 19 
needle will be found an excellent size. The rattan is 
then coiled to make a circular center for the bottom 
of the basket and the raffia is threaded up through and 
wound about the center of the coil to hold the rattan 
in place. Then the raffia is passed under the preced¬ 
ing coil, out on the right side, from thence over both 


404 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOF 

coils and again over the strip of loose rattan, holding 
it in place. This stitch is repeated, the basket being 
shaped by pulling the rattan more loosely or tightly 
as may seem necessary, until an oval, or round basket, 
is finished similar to those in which figs are packed. 
The basket may be shallow or bowl-shaped. The stitch 
used in fastening the rattan coils together may be 
varied by sewing over two coils at once, making a 
longer stitch; or a buttonhole stitch can be used which 
is very effective. The basket may also be varied by 
using coils of raffia instead of rattan—this being the 
favorite method of Indians. 

The third type of basket that a child can make at 
home is one constructed wholly of rattan or willow. 
This basketry material will be stiff for little fingers 
so a fine quality of willow or reed should be selected 
and in two sizes, possibly numbers two and four. It 
will need to be soaked some time in warm water as in 
the case of the preceding basket. 

THIRTEEN SPOKES FROM THE CENTER. 

To make this basket, there will need to be spokes 
and a weaver. The spokes are short strips of coarse 
rattan or willow which form the foundation of the 
basket, and the weaver is a long, finer strip of rattan 
used to wind in and out between the spokes to hold 
them together. Thirteen spokes are cut of equal length 
and are bound together in the center with a bit of 
raffia before the weaving is begun. In binding the 
spokes together six are laid side by side, six more are 
crossed on the top, and an extra spoke is inserted. 
The weaver is fastened in with the binding, the spokes 
are separated, and the weaving is begun in over-and- 
over fashion. When the bottom of the basket is the 
required size, it should be soaked again, thoroughly, 
and the spokes bent up carefully with the fingers to 
make the sides of the basket. Should one want per¬ 
fectly straight sides for the basket, the spokes may be 



Three types of Basket which a Child can make—from left to right, Reed; Braided Raffia; Sewed Raffia. 








HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 405 


made to stand perpendicular by holding the weaver 
quite firmly, but if the sides are to flare, the weaving 
must be done more loosely. A simple method of 
finishing the top of the basket is to push in the spokes 
after the last weaving is finished. A more difficult 
but very effective method of finishing is to braid the 
projecting spokes. Handles may be inserted with the 
awl, bent up on the under side and sewed in place with 
a bit of raffia or twisted into a knot. A twisted handle 
will be strong and pretty. 

BASKETS FOB, FLOWERS OR WOOD. 

When a child has learned how to make the three 
types of baskets described, he will have a splendid 
foundation for more difficult and involved weaving. 
Larger baskets for holding scraps, wood for the fire¬ 
place, or flowers can be made of coarse reed. Smaller 
baskets for fruit, flowers, and candies can be made and 
will prove most acceptable gifts to his friends, full of 
the real spirit of giving because the child made them 
himself. He will find innumerable other materials out, 
of doors to utilize in decorating the baskets that he 
makes. The long swamp grasses which may be found 
in such countless and lovely colors may be braided in 
with the raffia. Pine needles, cones, lengths of sea¬ 
weed, or sprays of waxed autumn leaves may be sewed 
to the top of each to form a unique and really beautiful 
decoration. A strip of narrow ribbon which may be 
run in and a bow tied on the side will make the child’s 
basket look very dainty and gay. 

HOW TO MAKE A BASKET NEST FOR A BIRD. 

The skill learned in basketry may be used in mak¬ 
ing other objects. A round, pocket-shaped basket, 
made of braided rush or raffia and sewed firmly, may 
be hung by a loop of the same material used for the 
braiding to the limb of some old apple-tree for a bird’s 
nest. Some wild birds, as the wren and the bluebird, 


406 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


are perfectly willing to live in rented houses for a 
season, saving themselves the trouble of building in 
the spring, and these birds will be delighted with the 
basket-nest which a child weaves and hangs out of 
doors for them. 

A CIRCULAR MAT FOR DOLLY’S TABLE. 

Either the method of sewed braiding or the coiled 
reed oversewed with raffia described in the second bas¬ 
ket may be used to make a flat mat to hold mother’s 
teapot. A circular mat is made five or six inches in 
diameter. This is done either by sewing a braid of 
raffia, as was done for the bottom of the first basket, 
and carefully fastening the end to the under side of 
the basket, or an end of reed is coiled and sewed with 
raffia in a contrasting color until the mat is the re¬ 
quired size. Either of these circular mats may be used 
for the top of a dolls’ tea-table instead of a tea-stand. 
The legs of the table are made of fine reed bound in 
with the sewing. In the same fashion a tiny doll’s 
chair can be made, a circular mat of either braided 
raffia or coiled reed forming the seat, and the legs 
and back being formed by fine reeds pushed and bound 
into the seat very securely with raffia stitches. 


Sewing. 

HOW TO BE A DOLL’S DRESSMAKER. 

JtfttpHE little girl seated in a stiff-backed, high chair, 
and sewing squares of patchwork or the long, 
stupidly uninteresting seams of a sheet or pil¬ 
low slip is a faraway picture now. Every child may 
acquire skill in sew'ing just as easily by making attrac¬ 
tive objects—dolls’ clothes, nursery bags, and bean- 
bag covers—as through the less happy mediums of the 
patchwork square or the over-and-over sewing of 
sheets and pillow covers. 

There are a few preliminary movements to be 




HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 407 


learned before a child can be given real sewing to do. 
These may be acquired by means of play, however, and 
will not be found irksome with the prospect of a roll of 
colored cloth to sew and the promise of delightful 
things to be made from its contents. 

Materials for the child’s first sewing are a No. 3 
or 4 needle, a spool of cotton No. 40, a pair of small 
scissors one blade which is narrow and pointed and the 
other wide and blunt, a thimble which fits comforta¬ 
bly—not too snugly, some attractive colored cloth, 
and a tape-measure. 

THE CORRECT WAY TO HOLD THE SCISSORS. 

Learning to use the scissors is the first lesson. 
They should be held in the child’s right hand, prefer¬ 
ably with the pointed blade down. The thumb is 
thrust through the upper handle of the scissors and 
the third finger through the lower, while the first and 
second fingers support and guide the scissors in cut¬ 
ting. In learning to cut, a piece of thick manilla paper 
should be used instead of cloth, upon which inches and 
fractions of a yard can be measured with the tape 
line and laid off. Then the paper can be placed flat 
upon the child’s sewing table as she tries to cut it 
from edge to edge and from corner to corner, or di¬ 
vides it into strips, free-hand, of equal length and 
width. Later a piece of stiff muslin may be substi¬ 
tuted for the paper, and the little dressmaker can try 
her scissors upon it, cutting according to line and with 
great care and exactness. 

RULES TOR THREADING THE NEEDLE. 

Practice in threading the needle follows this train¬ 
ing in the use of scissors. The thread should be meas¬ 
ured across the child’s chest for the right length. 
Short strands of thread mean quick work in sewing, 
and the child’s tendency, always, is toward a long 
thread which knots and breaks and retards the work. 

Practice in using a thimble will prepare the little 


408 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


girl for its actual use, and may be carried out as 
follows: 

The right hand is raised, the needle being held 
between the thumb and first finger, and the thimble 
finger being held in position. The eye of the needle 
rests against the thimble. The left hand, in which 
a piece of muslin is held between two fingers, is lifted 
and the needle is pushed into the muslin, making a 
stitch. Then the thread is drawn through, held over 
the finger. No knot should be used in this thimble 
practice which is continued until the small seamstress 
has grown expert with her thimble. 

HOW TO BEGIN. 

Now, she is ready for real sewing ! 

Basting, overcasting, backstitching and over¬ 
seaming are the preliminary steps in the child’s sew¬ 
ing, but instead of learning these separately, on pieces 
of practice cloth, the little girl will be more interested 
to combine the operations and make a bean-bag cov¬ 
ering which she can fill and use in her play. Two 
squares of either red-and-white striped ticking, flow¬ 
ered chintz, or turkey red calico, measuring six inches 
are measured and cut. These two pieces are laid to¬ 
gether, and held over the child’s two fingers, are fast- 
tened together around three sides with a line of coarse 
basting. The spaces and stitches in this sewing should 
be of equal length. The child should begin on the * 
right hand side of the material, with a knot and one 
backstitch to secure greater firmness. The stitches 
and spaces should measure one fourth of an inch and 
when all three sides of the bean-bag are basted, the 
thread is fastened securely by another backstitch, 
known as the fastening stitch. 

OVER-CASTING AND BACK-STITCHING. 

The three seams are overcast next. The over¬ 
casting is begun at the right hand side of the work 



Three pretty Aprons for Dolly which may be used as models for larger ones. 























HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 409 


with two small backstitches. The needle is thrust 
through the muslin towards the thumb of the left 
hand, taking the stitch over both edges of the goods. 
The stitches should be taken one eighth of an inch 
down and one quarter of an inch apart. The thread is 
drawn loosely and the overcasting should follow the 
weave of the cloth. 

The backstitching which make the seams of the 
bean-bag is the next stitch, for the little girl to learn. 
To accomplish it, the basted work is held over the first 
finger of the left hand, and the sewing is done from 
right to left. Leaving a half inch of thread, two back¬ 
stitches are taken. The sewing is then continued by 
taking a short stitch to the right and then taking a 
stitch twice as long to the left on the wrong side of the 
seam. All the stitches must meet on the right side of 
the seam and the stitches should he uniform in size 
and the thread is fastened by passing the needle 
through to the wrong side and taking two stitches 
through the last ones made. Turning the bag, filling it 
and folding in the raw edges a quarter of an inch is 
the next step to learning overseaming. 

HOW TO MAKE A BEAN BAG. 

In beginning the overseaming, the needle is 
pointed toward the sewer, taking it through the edge 
of the cloth nearest the child. An end of thread, un¬ 
knotted, is left on the top of the seam and sewed over 
for a distance of half an inch when it is trimmed off. 
The overseaming is continued, new threads being 
sewed through the hole where the old thread came out. 
The seam is finished by sewing hack on the last three 
stitches. 

This completes the bean bag which will furnish 
amusement to the little girl and her friends for a 
long time and in making which she has been taught 
four fundamental stitches that are the basis of all 
plain sewing. 


410 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


The small seamstress should be taught hemming 
next. Bits of lo g doth and white muslin may be 
hemmed to make dobs’ sheets and a yard of red and 
white checked glass toweling cuts up into a half 
dozen dolls’ towels whicn will afford the little girl 
much delight and excellent practice in sewing. The 
evenness of the folded hem should be tested as the 
child bastes it. In beginning to hem, the little girl 
will have to be taught to point the needle towards the 
right and thrust it through the fold o'* the hem only. 

The needle is then drawn through, leaving one half 
inch of thread which is tucked under the fold of the 
hem. Two stitches put through the fold of the hem 
take the place of a knot and hold the end of the thread 
in place. Last, taking up a few threads of the muslin 
and the fold of the hem at each stitch, the needle is 
drawn in and out making a line of close, slanting 
stitches. The child’s eye should be trained to keep the 
stitches uniform in slant, size and space. The hem is 
finished by taking two or three stitches on top of each 
other and then slipping the needle under the hem 
as far back as three stitches before cutting off the 
thread. 

With the ability to measure, cut, baste, overcast, 
backstitch, overseam and hem the little seamstress 
has the ability to make almost any plain object, care¬ 
fully and well. Certain fancy stitches may be learned 
next which may be used to embellish a runner for a 
table or bureau, the bottom of a doll’s dress or a 
frock which the little girl will wear herself. 

DOUBLE-BRIER AND HERRING-BONE. 

Single and double brier stitch is simple to learn and 
charmingly decorative. See Figure 1. Using a small 
knot the needle is brought up from underneath. The 
thread is held down with the thumb of the left hand 
and a stitch is taken, the needle being pointed toward 
the sewer. The thread is carried under the needle so 


HANDWORK FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 411 


as to form a loop stitch and these loop stitches are 
taken alternately on the right and left of the thread 
which is held down. To form the double brier stitch, 
two loop stitches or as many as are desired are taken 
on each side, alternately. 


Herring bone stitch, while 
it is decorative, may be used 
also on flannel or wool mate¬ 
rial to keep a seam flat after 
it has been backstitched. Be¬ 
ginning at the left hand side 
of the work and sewing toward 
the right, with the needle set in 
a horizontal line and always 



pointing from the sewer, the stitches indicated in the 
illustration, Figure 2, are taken. In joining a new 
thread it is brought up from the wrong side of the 
material with no unnecessary break in the stitch. 

Buttonhole stitch may 



finish the raw edge of an 
object and can be varied 


to form an embroidered 

finish as in Figure 3. The stitch is accomplished by 
beginning at the left hand side of the cloth and work¬ 
ing towards the right. Two running stitches are taken 
on the wrong side of the cloth, the needle pointing 


towards the left, and one 
eighth of an inch above the 
edge of the material. The 



Hi needle is then carried 


through to the right side. 
Then, holding the thread 


down with the left thumb, the needle is inserted one 
eighth of an inch to the right and parallel with the 
first stitch. In doing this stitch the thread should be 
drawn very loosely. 








412 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


MATERIALS REQUIRED. 

A set of simple paper patterns for the dolls ’ 
clothes, a work basket that contains a paper of needles 
of varying sizes, half a dozen spools of thread in¬ 
cluding Nos. 40 to 60, black silk, and two spools of 
colored thread or silk, a pair of shining scissors, and 
a little silver thimble, together with a roll of good 
sized cloth pieces, including ginghams prints, silks, and 
white cloth, will be a wonderful boon to any little girl. 
A very little assistance on the part of mother or some 
other grown-up will help the small seamstress to use 
her sewing materials with real educational value to 
herself, and the dolls’ dresses, underwear and aprons 
which she makes will be working models which she can 
copy in making larger objects for her own wear. 


SECTION VI. 

Suggestions for the Mother. 



Big Questions Asked by Little People. 

E are all familiar with the questions of child¬ 
hood—that everlasting, interminable flow of 
“why” and “wherefore” which greets the 
guardian of the child at waking, and travels with him 
unceasingly through all the daylight hours. 

Only recently, however, have we begun to realize 
that children ask these questions neither from a mali¬ 
cious desire to annoy, nor wholly out of idle curiosity, 
but primarily to acquire knowledge. 

At about the age of three the child is well on his 
way of development. He walks, runs, climbs, talks— 
with more or less fluency, lias cut his first teeth, and no 
longer eats “baby food” exclusively, but is allowed 
some of the coarser food of the adult. 

The animal, the physical life, is well under way. 
Now the intellect, the soul is awakening. The child has 
begun to reason, to draw his own conclusions, to reply 
and converse intelligently. He looks about him, and 
finds that “the world is full of a number of things.” 
With some of them he has been acquainted since in¬ 
fancy, and it is proof that he seeks information 
through questioning, that he makes no queries con¬ 
cerning the things with which he is most familiar. He 
does not say, “Why is my cradle there, and what is it 
for?” He knows it is there for him to sleep in. He 
accepts it because he understands it. He doesn’t say, 
“Why do I eat?” because he knows that he always has 
eaten to satisfy hunger. 


413 





414 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


He may, however, ask, “Mother, why does kitty 
stick out her tongue to drink her milk? You won’t let 
me.” And the wise mother, instead of answering im¬ 
patiently, “Oh, don’t ask so many questions,” will say, 
“because that is the way God created kitty-cats to eat. 
But to little boys and girls He gave fingers, and He 
wants them to learn how to use them.” 

In the child’s questionings lies the mother’s great¬ 
est opportunity. It would be extremely difficult to sit 
down each day, and impart to a child exactly the 
amount and kind of information he ought to have, 
according to his age and power of assimilation. It 
would be impossible for the ordinary adult to get and 
keep the child’s viewpoint, and so be able to teach him 
according to his understanding; but leave the child to 
himself, and answer his questions properly, and he 
will develop naturally and acquire information as fast 
as he can assimilate it. 

It would do absolutely no good to attempt to teach 
a child, even with maps and pictures, anything of the 
life and customs of China. It would mean nothing 
to him. He must be taught by explaining to him what 
he can see. And what he can see must be explained to 
him according to his understanding, for self-preser¬ 
vation which is always the first law, and for proper 
development which is the second. 

As the mother answers her child’s first questions 
so will she be privileged to answer further, be priv¬ 
ileged to share in the development of her child’s mind 
and soul, and allowed to mold, shape, and determine 
his thought and habits of life. Questions answered 
hurriedly, querulously, irritably, will not invite fur¬ 
ther questioning. Questions answered untruthfully 
will repel further questionings, and confidences as well, 
for the child who learns that he can not depend upon 
the answers to his questions as truthful, will seek else¬ 
where for information. 

Too often—much too often—the “why,” “when,” 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


415 


“what,” and “wherefore,” of childhood are met with 
the command to “go away and not bother;” “keep 
still, and don’t ask so many questions;” or “run away 
and play; little children should be seen and not 
heard.” Unfortunate indeed, is the child, who, as in 
the majority of cases, is peremptorily silenced instead 
of being answered with a proper recognition of his 
right to an intelligent reply. 

In the great majority of cases, too, the parent or 
guardian of the child is obliged to turn him away un¬ 
satisfied because of inability to reply logically. Little 
children want to know many things, and have not yet 
learned of any reason, thank heaven, for not seeking 
that information openly and legitimately. Grown 
older and still unsatisfied, they learn either to accept 
ignorance as a traditionary heritage, or to seek for 
knowledge stealthily. 

Parents and guardians of childhood often disre¬ 
gard truth in their dealings with children through 
thoughtlessness and ignorance of its effect upon the 
child-life, when a clear understanding of the tremen¬ 
dous results would bring immediate cessation of such 
practise. 

Example is the most forceful factor in all teaching 
and yet we actually, by our own example, teach our 
children to lie and then punish them. We make both 
promises and threats, and neglect or fail to fulfil them. 
The child soon recognizes our weakness, and copies it. 
We meet Mrs. Grundy at the door, and tell her we are 
delighted to see her, and immediately upon her depar¬ 
ture heap invectives upon her, and say we hope she ’ll 
never come again. 

We often live a lie, and then punish the apt pupil 
who imitates. 

We commit a wrong act, even to a child, and 
through cowardice, stubbornness, or inconsiderate¬ 
ness, neglect to seek pardon. The child is impertinent, 
and we force him to say he is sorry. This is injustice, 


416 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


and next time lie will lie to escape tlie same treatment. 

One of the child’s most divine rights is to be dealt 
with justly, to be understood as an individual with 
feelings deserving consideration; to be taken seri¬ 
ously, and not as a necessary evil resultant upon the 
marriage state, an inanity on which the mother may 
express her own vanity, an obstacle in the way of 
social success, nor a stubborn, wilful little brat upon 
which a vengeful temper may be vented. 

The mother who realizes these things, who is awake 
to her responsibilities and privileges, will welcome 
every question her child asks, recognizing this as the 
appointed way to his best development, and the surest 
path to his loving confidence in her and with her. 

In the hope of aiding those who have in hand the 
task of training children, we have undertaken to give 
here some of the commoner queries which are hourly 
converting the ordinary child into a veritable animated 
question mark. 

Naturally the child’s first questions pertain to the 
outside world. From his earliest infancy he has been 
acquainted with the house, its occupants, and appoint¬ 
ments. In his outdoor excursions he is met at every 
hand with new experiences. 

“Mother,” he queries, “who made the grass?” 

“God made the grass, my child, a green carpet to 
cover the earth, that a little boy’s feet might not be 
hurt, and that sheep and horses and cattle might find 
plenty to eat. ’ ’ 

“What made Him make it green, mother?” 

“Because green is most restful of all colors to the 
eye, little son. God thought of that for our comfort.” 

Thus the mother in the very beginning implants 
in the heart of her child, conception of the loving ten¬ 
derness and thoughtful consideration of God as a 
Father—the ideal of human fatherhood. 

“And the trees, mother? Did God make the trees?” 

“Yes, God made the trees and the plants and all 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


417 


the flowers. When we get home I will read yon from 
your book of Bible tales the “In the Beginning” sto¬ 
ries which tell how God made all these things, as the 
Hebrews told them to their children.” 

“Who were the Hebrews!” 

“The very first people of whom we have any record 
in the Bible.” 

“What is the Bible, mother!” 

“The story about God and the World.” 

“How did He make them, mother! The trees and 
things! Hid He plant a seed as we did for the 
pansies!” 

“We don’t know, dear, just how He made the very 
first ones, but perhaps He made first a father tree and 
a mother tree, and in the mother tree a tiny egg seed 
which the father tree breathed upon with his life also, 
and when the seed was quite ripe the egg seed fell into 
the earth; then the rain came down and moistened it, 
the sun shone down and warmed it, and the mother 
earth nourished it with food; and by and by it shot its 
dainty sprouts up above the earth, and grew and grew 
until it was a tree. ’ ’ 

Marvelous tale! In the telling of which lies the 
germ of all the wonder tales of creation to follow > 
the stories of flower babies, fish babies, animal babies, 
and human babies. Opening limitless opportunity for 
further questioning, further answering, all of which, 
properly conducted, is developing the plastic mind 
along wholesome normal lines. No “hushing” or ly¬ 
ing when it comes to the question of human birth, but 
a sweet unfaltering faith in the purity of all creation. 

QUESTIONS ON BIRTH. 

The Advent of New Kittens. 

“Oh, mother. Old Malty has four little baby kit¬ 
tens. The boofullest! Do come and see them.” 


VOL. 1—27 


418 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


If the mother is wise she will drop anything less 
important than a beefsteak, and go. It means a great 
opportunity to get close to her child’s confidence. 

“Aren’t they pretty, mother? Where did Old 
Malty find them ?’ 9 

“Do you remember the story I told you about the 
father and mother tree? How God had planted a seed 
in the mother tree’s body, and when it was quite time 
the seed dropped into the earth and grew ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, and the father tree breathed on it. Did old 
Malty have kitten seeds in her body, mother ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, God has implanted near the heart of all 
mother things, plants, flowers, insects, animals, birds, 
and people-mothers, the baby seed. The mother nour¬ 
ishes it with her own life until it is large enough to 
grow by itself, and then it comes out into the world to 
grow. ’ ’ 

“How does it grow?” 

“By feeding upon the food God has appointed for 
its nourishment. Trees are fed by the air, the sun, the 
rain, and the earth. Little chickens are fed by ground¬ 
up corn, bits of bread, insects and worms out of the 
ground, and water. Little colts eat grass and grain. 
Calves eat milk and grass, and later, grain; kittens 
and puppies are nourished by milk, and bits from the 
table. Little children for the first year have only 
milk and water to drink. As they grow older they need 
more things in order to develop properly, so they are 
fed vegetables, fruit, eggs, and meat.” 

“Where do the kittens get their dinner, now, 
mother, when they are so tiny?” 

“From the mother’s body. So do little calves, 
colts, puppies, and other animals. Part of what the 
mother eats goes to make blood to nourish her own 
body, and part goes to make milk for her babies. See 
how they are cuddled up close to the mother? They 
have the udder in their mouths from which they draw 
the milk. You used to do the same when you were a 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


419 


baby, and mother loved to think you were drawing 
your life from her body. ” 

With almost all children these little references to 
the tender ties between them and mother, are met with 
silence, when the child is going over this relation in 
his mind, and when he is too much touched to talk. 
After a few moments of silent meditation he makes 
some loving little demonstration of his feeling, clasps 
his mother’s hand, throws his arms around her neck, 
or gives her a shy, tender glance, according to the im¬ 
pulsiveness of his nature. 

But in all cases where the child is told frankly and 
yet gently and tenderly of the closeness between him¬ 
self and his mother, intensified love is the result. 

The Advent of a New Baby. 

The incident of the new kittens might easily lead 
to further development of the subject so that the fol¬ 
lowing “story” could be told at that time as well, but 
we will suppose that the advent of a new baby brings 
up the subject instead. 

4 'Mother, where did the baby come from? Susie 
Brown said God sent it, and Bridget said the Doctor 
brought it. Which was it V ’ 

"A little bit of both. God sent it because God made 
fathers and mothers, and put the baby seed in the 
mother’s body. The doctor came to help the baby get 
into the world.” 

“How did it get into the world, mother? And 
where was it before?” 

"One question at a time, my dear. And I will an¬ 
swer your last question first, because it comes first. In 
the beginning the baby was just a tiny, tiny seed in a 
little nest right inside mother’s body, just near the 
heart, where she could love it, and keep it warm and 
safe. Do you remember what I told you about the 
father tree and the father flower breathing on the tiny 


420 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


egg-seed with his pollen breath to give it life? Well, 
the baby’s father breaths his life on to the seed baby, 
too, only in still another way. But to learn all these 
different ways you will have to wait until you are 
older. After the baby seed has part of the mother’s 
life, and part of the father’s life, it begins to grow in 
its warm nest just as the baby seeds in the warm 
ground do. And while it grows the mother loves it, 
and keeps herself strong and well for its sake, and the 
father loves the mother, and takes care of her so she 
will be happy, and so that the baby will be happy. If 
there are little brothers and sisters they take care of 
the mother too, and love her a thousand times dearer 
because of the baby, and because they were once seed 
babies close to the mother’s heart also. 

“And after the baby has been growing in its mother 
nest for nearly a year, one day a door is opened in the 
mother’s body, and the baby comes out into the 
world.” 

“Where is the door, mother?” 

“Just near the baby’s little nest. That is when the 
doctor comes, for the mother is very, very ill, and often 
suffers great pain when the baby is born, but she 
doesn’t mind that so much afterward when she holds 
the dear little baby in her arms, and cuddles its little 
head close to her bosom.” 

Here you have at once taught the child the truth 
in the statement that God brought the baby, and told 
him exactly the part the doctor plays. You have told 
him frankly that the father has an important office in 
the child’s life, and satisfied, not only his curiosity, 
but his legitimate thirst for knowledge. He will re¬ 
fuse all other tales brought to him, because he knows 
the truth. He will have added respect for the person 
who has furnished him with proper knowledge, and 
the tenderest love for the mother who has nourished 
him at her heart. 

Later, as circumstances bring about further ques- 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


421 


tioning, you will have paved the way for further truth. 
You will also have given yourself opportunity to read 
and study along the subject, to better tit yourself 
against further questioning. At the age of ten or 
twelve, you can put into his hands books of sex instruc¬ 
tion written for those years. 

QUESTIONS ON DEATH. 

The subject of death is bound to come up in every 
child’s life. If he gets his impression only from the 
lamentations and evidences of distress which accom¬ 
pany the event, as is often the case, his soul will be 
chilled to the very marrow with a dread and horror 
which will overshadow it into maturity. The trap¬ 
pings of death in themselves are, at their very best, 
not only awe-inspiring but repulsive to the joy-loving 
soul. Every possible precaution should be taken to 
help the child get a normal impression, and upon his 
plastic mind should be imprinted a faith and trust in 
his Father’s ability to handle this matter, to the joy 
of those who are departed, and the peaceful acceptance 
of those left. 

A child should never under any circumstances be 
compelled to wear mourning. It is a distinct cruelty 
to put upon him this badge of woe, and saddle his 
bright soul with the doleful reminder. The sooner we, 
as Christian people, abolish the heathenish custom of 
parading our feelings in public, and refusing to ac¬ 
knowledge openly our belief in a better world, and in 
the loving kindness of God as our Father, the better. 

Death of a Bied. 

“What makes the birdie all cold and stiff, mother?” 

“ Because he is dead, dear. The life has gone out 

of him.” 

4 4 Can’t he sing any more ? ’ 9 


422 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“Not any more. But lie sang some very beautiful 
songs while he was living. He was glad to sing. ’ ’ 

“Did he want to die, mother?” 

“I don’t suppose he ever thought about it.” 

11 What made him die ? ’ ’ 

“Very likely some one shot him. Cats often kill 
birds, but they usually eat them, because God has al¬ 
lowed among animals the law of eating other flesh. ’ ’ 

“Why would some one shoot him?” 

“I don’t know, my child. Sometimes boys shoot 
birds just for sport. Boys that would do that, how¬ 
ever, have not been taught to love the birds, nor have 
they been taught to be kind and tender to all God’s 
creatures.” 

“Is it wicked of the boys, mother? Will God pun¬ 
ish them?” 

“It is never right to judge, dear, just what is 
wicked in another person, because we can not always 
tell his reasons. Sometimes certain kinds of birds get 
so numerous that they have to be killed off because 
they are a nuisance. Then it is not really wicked; 
although I don’t think a boy who loved birds could do 
it, even so. God will surely punish people, however, 
in some way for doing things they know are wrong.” 

“What shall we do with the birdie, mother?” 

“Let’s find a pretty box, and lay him tenderly in 
it. Then we’ll dig a nice warm place in the garden, 
and put the box in it so no one will find it. Anl you 
may plant a flower over the grave. ’ ’ 

“What’s a grave, mother?” 

“A place in the ground, dear, where we lay the 
bodies after the life has gone out.” 

The Death of a Playmate ok Relative. 

“Mother, can’t Susie ever run and play anymore?” 

“Not here with us, dear. But in heaven where 
Susie is now, we believe she will run and play.” 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


423 


44 How’s she going to play when her legs are all 
put away in the box?” 

44 God will give her a new body up there.” 

44 Where is heaven, mother?” 

4 4 Heaven, my child, is where all is good and 
happy. ’ ’ 

44 Is it up in the sky?” 

44 I do not know just where it is. We say it is 44 up 
there” because we speak of heaven as the place to 
which our souls go when they leave the body, and we 
think they go away from the earth.” 

44 How can our souls leave our bodies, mother?” 

4 4 Just as you can slip out of an old dress. The 
body is the soul’s dress, and when the time comes for 
the soul to go, it simply slips out and leaves the body 
lying useless.” 

4 4 Can the soul put on its body dress again, 
mother ? ’ ’ 

4 4 Not this one. God gave us this body to live in 
and wear while we are on earth. When we go to God 
he will give us a new body dress to wear.” 

44 Is heaven very far away, mother?” 

4 4 Heaven is where all is happiness. We can make 
of earth a heaven if we are always good and kind to 
everyone about us.” 

44 What are angels, mother?” 

4 4 In Bible stories the angels were always messen¬ 
gers of God and of good.” 

44 Have angels wings, mother?” 

44 I do not know, dear. I never saw an angel.” 

44 Is little sister an angel now?” 

4 4 If that is what they call people when they come to 
heaven, then she is. ’’ 

44 Do you think little sister has wings?” 

44 No, I fancy little sister’s new body dress will not 
be very much different from that she wore here. 
Artists have made pictures of angels with wings be¬ 
cause God’s messengers must be beautiful.” 


424 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“Why do yon cry, mother, when you talk about 
little sister ?” 

“Because I can’t help being lonely for her and 
longing to see her. I am not crying for her, dear, be¬ 
cause I know she will not be lonely.” 

“Who’ll take care of her and teach her!” 

“There are plenty of other mothers there, dear, 
who will be glad to care for her; and as for teaching, 
God will arrange all that. He will see that there are 
places in which His little ones may learn. ’ ’ 

“Will they go to school, mother?” 

“I do not know, dear. That is God’s own country 
and I can safely trust Him to take care of it. There 
will be nothing lacking. ’ ’ 

The child has drifted now into vague speculation, 
and it is time the mother ceased to carry on the line of 
thought. She has impressed the child with a sense of 
nearness and definiteness of heaven, and of her im¬ 
plicit trust in the Fatherhood of God. This is suffi¬ 
cient and the child’s thought should be directed into 
new channels. 

On another day they may visit a cemetery. 

“What are all those little mounds, mother?” 

“Those are graves, dear, like the one you made 
in the garden for the robin. There are cast off body 
dresses in them.” 

“What are the stones for?” 

“They bear the names of those whose bodies are 
left there, so those who loved them will remember 
where they were laid.” 

“What do they want to remember for?” 

“Because we love the bodies of our dear ones, just 
as I would love the little dresses you would leave be¬ 
hind if you should go to grandma’s to stay for a few 
days.” 

“Why do people die?” 

“It is very hard to tell reasons to little children, 
my dear. Sometimes it is hard even for grown people 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


425 


to understand why those we love are taken away from 
us. But we do know that there are a great many good 
reasons which no one but God understands; and that 
He expects us to know that it is for the best. And we 
know that God is Love, that He loves us one and all, 
and wants us to deserve everything beautiful in this 
wonderful world. ” 

4 ‘What makes them die, mother?” 

“Sometimes they become ill of a disease which 
causes the death of the body. And sometimes an acci¬ 
dent happens to them. Often people do not take the 
right care of their bodies, and so the body dies and the 
soul has to leave it, sooner than it need have done 
otherwise. God has given us our bodies, and certain 
rules to live by, which would keep our bodies well and 
strong; but we do not always know or remember the 
rules, and sometimes we are careless of them.” 

In this manner the whole subject of death has been 
robbed of all terror and grewsome superstition. Some 
sadness must always surround the subject, but we 
would not, if we could, keep always from the child the 
element of sorrow, since sorrow robbed of bitterness 
is the greatest refiner of the human soul. 

SUN, MOON, AND STARS. 

“Mother, where does the sun go at night?” 

“The sun stays quite still, my child. Let me show 
you. Run and get mother an apple and a hickory nut. 
Now you hold the apple and play it's the sun. I’ll hold 
the nut and we’ll play that’s the earth. Now, see? 
The earth travels around the sun, and also itself turns 
around, like this. Once every day it turns around— 
half of it at a time toward the sun, when it is day, and 
half turned away from the sun when it is night. It 
takes a whole year to go quite around the sun, and 
just a day to turn around itself.” 

“And does the earth go around the moon, too?” 


426 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“No. The moon revolves about the earth to give it 
light when the earth is turned away from the sun.” 

“What are stars, mother, and what makes them 
shine ?’’ 

“Stars are other worlds, dear. We don’t know 
whether they are just like our world or not, or 
whether people live on them or not, but we know they 
are planets revolving around the sun. They seem to 
shine because we see the sunlight reflected on them 
when we are in the dark.” 

“Where are the stars when it rains, mother?” 

“Shining just the same, dear. Only the rain clouds 
are between us and them. It is just the same on days 
when we can’t see the sun shine. The sun is there, 
always shining, but we can’t see it because of the 
clouds.” 

“What are clouds, mother?” 

“Clouds are the moisture, that is in the air, made 
thick. If they grow quite heavy the moisture comes 
down in rain if it is summer, and snow in winter.” 

WATER QUESTION. 

“Where does the water come from, mother, when 
it rains?” 

“From the clouds, my child. The sun gathers up 
the moisture from the earth, holds it in the clouds 
until it is condensed into water again, then drops it 
onto the earth to water our gardens and lawns.” 

“Why doesn’t the lake come up on the land, 
mother, and wash the houses away?” 

“Because it lies in a basin, and can’t. If the water 
of the lake could be all scooped out there would be a 
hole there, a basin that holds the water.” 

“Where does the water in the brook come from, 
mother?” 

“From the hills where there are springs that bub¬ 
ble up out of the ground, and pour their waters into 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


427 


it. Or, from the mountains where there is always 
snow which melts. ’ ’ 

“Where is the river going to?” 

“To the sea. All rivers go to the sea finally.” 

“And where do they come from?” 

“First from tiny streams up in the hills. Then 
they grow larger and larger as other streams flow 
into them, until finally they make a river.” 

MYTHICAL BEINGS. 

“Mother, who is Santa Claus? Susie Brown said 
my papa was Santa Claus. Is he?” 

“Your papa is no more Santa Claus than he is a 
fairy or a brownie.” 

“Is Santa Claus a fairy?” 

“Santa Claus is a spirit . That’s even better than 
being a fairy. Fairies are only make-believe, and 
Santa Claus is a really-truly spirit. ’’ 

“Can we see him?” 

“We can’t see him, any more than we can see God, 
or the good angels that watch over us, but we can see 
what he does , and what he makes people do.” 

“What does he make people do?” 

“He enters right into their hearts, and makes 
them feel glad and generous, and want to do some¬ 
thing for other people.” 

“Why does he come at Christmas, and not at other 
times? ” 

“He comes at Christmas more than at other times 
because long, long years ago people began making 
each other gifts on Christmas to celebrate the Christ 
Child’s birthday, and they called the spirit or feeling 
which made them want to do this, St. Nicholas, which 
the little German children afterward nick-named 
Santa Claus.” 

“Is his coming down chimneys just a fairy story?” 

“Just a delightful fairy story.” 

“Then who puts the presents on the tree?” 


428 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“Anyone who has the spirit of Santa Claus in 
him so strong that he wants to. ’ ’ 

“Mother, what is a fairy?” 

“Just a make-believe.’’ 

“And brownies, too?” 

“Y T es, and gnomes, and pixies, and goblins, and 
ghosts and all such things. But, after all, they are 
a little more than make-believe, for they all represent 
good and bad spirits, or feelings. Good fairies are 
good thoughts, and the spirit that makes one want to 
do good and kindly deeds. Bad fairies, and pixies, 
and goblins, and such things, are the thoughts and 
feelings that make one want to do and say unkind 
and bad things/’ 

“What is a devil, mother?” 

“A bad spirit, my dear. A spirit that gets into 
your heart, and tells you to do naughty things, and 
say untrue and unkind things. ’ ’ 

“And do I have to, mother?” 

“Indeed, you don’t. There are all the good spirits 
too, and you must listen to what the good spirits tell 
you to do. Then, if you always listen and obey the 
good spirits, the bad ones will go away.” 

“What are the good spirits’ names?” 

“Things that mean part of God—love, truth, 
honor, loyalty, courage, tenderness.” 

“Is there a really-truly devil? Ann said there 
was, and that he has a tail and hoofs and eyes like 
fire.” 

“There is no such really-truly creature. Artists 
in drawing pictures to represent a devil, have made 
him look like that because they wanted to make him 
seem just as horrible as possible.” 

THE DARK. 

This subject may follow naturally for the reason 
that the same sort of person who will tell a child of a 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


429 


“really-truly” devil, will very likely implant fears of 
“things in the dark.” 

“Mother, is there a bad man in the dark who will 
grab me if I go out at night? Ann said there was.” 

“It is never safe for little children to go out on 
the street or away from their homes at night because 
there might be danger of their getting harmed by 
someone or something that did not know and love 
little children. But it is not because of the dark . 
There is nothing to be afraid of in the dark any more 
than in the light.” 

“Why is it dark?” 

“Because the earth is turned away from the sun. 
God planned the world that way so people can rest 
and sleep. They could not rest so well in the light.” 

“Mother, it’s all dark on the stairs. Is anything 
there ?’’ 

“Nothing but what is there in the light, my child. 
Come and see.” 

It is essential that the mother should overcome 
the fear of dark by the greater fear of being a coward. 
The child should be shown, gently and kindly, that the 
dark conceals nothing that is not there by light. Let 
him first investigate the dark in company with some¬ 
one who will not startle or frighten him, and then 
alone. 

No child should ever be punished by shutting him 
up in the dark. This is inhuman and cruel. The child 
is at the time full of nervous excitement, and fear is 
uppermost in his mind—fear of unknown possibili¬ 
ties. Shut up alone in the dark with his own unhappy 
thought, he is a prey to every imagination of horror 
and liable to nervous exhaustion and chill by threats 
of “bogie-men,” “dark holes,” “niggers,” “big 
dogs” and other creatures of an evil imagination. 
How much greater then the shock to a weak, anemic, 
unhealthy child. 

If the dark holds terrors for the child, overcome 


430 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


these terrors by gentle humor—never ridicule—games 
played in the dark, talks about the benefit of the dark, 
walks in the dark listening to night noises, watching 
stars, moon, etc. 

A child who is afraid, or who has been frightened 
either by stories, threats, or some more unavoidable 
means, should never be compelled to sleep in a per¬ 
fectly dark room. Enough light should be left in an 
outer room or hall so that he may distinguish familiar 
articles. 

“Do flowers sleep in the dark, mother?” 

“Some do. Will you go out in the yard, and pick 
a dandelion for me? You know where some grow by 
the gate.” 

“I’ll go if you’ll stand on the porch, mother.” 

“Very well. Let’s close the door and then try to 
see each other with our voices.” 

The mother stands on the porch while the child 
ventures timidly out into the dark yard. 

“Are you there, mother?” 

“Right here, girlie.” The mother’s voice is very 
steady and sure. 

“I’ve got one, mother. I’m coming.” 

“Walk slowly, dear. Don’t run. Wait a minute. 
Turn around and see that big star over the hill there. 
What deep shadows the trees make, don’t they? 
There. Did you hear that little bird? He called 
1 Good-night, Polly, we’re all in bed. Why aren’t 
you?’ ” 

With such talk the mother familiarizes the child 
with things of the dark and makes him feel that it is 
but another phase of a world with which he is already 
familiar. 

Place the child’s bed where he can look out of his 
window at moon and stars, but if it is stormy do not 
compel him to have a curtain up. Consider his com¬ 
fort even while you are instilling courage. 



431 


BIG QUESTIONS. 

ANIMAL QUESTIONS. 

“Why does a dog wag his tail?” 

“It is the way God gave him to laugh. He wags 
his tail when he is pleased, or when he coaxes.” 

“Do kittens wag their tails to laugh?” 

“No. When kittens wag their tails we call it lash¬ 
ing, because they do it only when angry. Cats, pan¬ 
thers, lions, tigers all belong to one great family, and 
all lash their tails when they are angry.” 

“Is the cow angry when she lashes her tail, or is 
she laughing?” 

“Neither. The cow and the horse only lash their 
tails to keep oft the flies.” 

“Do the horses and cows go to bed at night?” 

“The man who takes care of them puts straw in 
fheir stalls for them to lie on. Cows always lie down 
to sleep, but horses are quite as apt to sleep stand¬ 
ing up.” 

“Do chickens sleep standing up, too?” 

“Chickens and birds and turkeys all like to fly up 
on the limb of a tree, or to a pole in the coop, to sleep 
where they can cuddle down into their own feather 
beds. Ducks and geese and swans, all the birds and 
fowls that have web feet, and live partly in water, like 
to huddle down in some sheltered corner to sleep.” 

“What makes Carlo (the dog) hang his tongue 
out ? ’* 

“Because he is so very warm. Through the tongue 
he perspires, and so gets cooled off.” 

AUTHORITY. 

The child early feels his own individuality, and is 
apt to question the authority of those in command. 

“Why must I mind you, mother?” 

“Because I have lived longer than you, my child, 
and I know the things you can not do without injury 
to yourself and others.” 


432 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“Did you mind your mother when you were a little 
girl?” 

“I hope I did. Probably I very often felt like dis¬ 
obeying just as you do. But I think I always believed 
my mother loved me and asked me to do what was . 
right, also just as you do.” 

“Why must I obey the teachers, mother? Do they 
love me too?” 

‘ ‘ I think they do. Teachers who are good teachers 
always love children who are good children. Schools 
have to make certain laws which all pupils must obey 
so the school can run smoothly, and the teachers not 
have to spend all their time telling each child what 
to do.” 

The child must early be taught the value and neces¬ 
sity of government. In his infancy he learns that 
there are certain home rules which he obeyed both for 
individual and family good. The house must be kept 
warm, but no one may burn it up. Meals must be 
provided for all, and no one may eat all of any dainty. 
Children may play, but they must not annoy other 
members of their family with their play. They have 
property of their own, and may expect it to w re¬ 
spected, but they must also respect the prc 
rights of others. 

And so on throughout all home life. The basic 
foundation of good citizenship is laid in the obedience 
the child renders to his home rules. Then follow the 
schools. He has already learned to respect the neces¬ 
sity for obedience to that authority. And right here 
let us say that it is most vitally essential that the 
child should not be allowed to form the impression 
early in life that all authority is unjust and overbear¬ 
ing. Of such material are outlaws and criminals 
made. 

The good home child will make, under proper 
tutelage, a good pupil, and a good pupil will make a 
good citizen. 



Archduke Franz of Austria, the Archduchess, and their Children: A happy Royal Family group. 
Princess Frederick Charles of Hesse and her two sons, whom she wishes to educate like American busi- 








BIG QUESTIONS. 


433 


The bravest and noblest soldiers are those who 
have best learned the laws of obedience to higher 
authority, and, also, they are the ones who rise to 
highest ranks of honor. 

MISCELLANEOUS QUESTIONS. 

44 Why do we eat?” 

“Because what we eat is fuel for our bodies to live 
on. You know the engine of the railroad train has to 
be fed coal so that it can work and pull cars? The 
stomach is the engine of our bodies. We give it food 
so it can do its work, and furnish the body with life 
and power.” 

“Why don’t you let me eat candy whenever I 
want to?” 

“Because I love you and don’t want you to get 
ill. Too much candy is not good for anyone, and par¬ 
ticularly for little children. All engines have to have 
certain kinds of food to give them power. If one 
threw dirt into the engine of the railroad train, it 
would stop. It could not run because that would not 
be the right kind of food for it. If you put too much 
sweet into your stomach-engine, it would stop, and 
you would be ill.” 

“Why does father go out to work every day?” 

“To earn money for food and clothes for you and 
me. And to make a home to protect and shelter us.” 

“Does he like to go to work?” 

“Yes. All big, strong men like to work, and all 
big, strong men like to have a home and a wife and 
little children to work for, to love and protect.” 

“What makes the wind? And why can’t we see 
it?” 

“The wind is the air moving fast or slowly. And 
we can not see air.” 


VOL. 1—28. 


434 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


“Mother, do you love me when you punish me?” 

“Yes, indeed, my child. I punish you because I 
love you—because I want to help you not do the 
naughty thing you were punished for. If you do 
wrong things people won’t love you; you will be very 
unhappy too, so I punish you to make you remember.” 

“What makes the clock go, mother?” 

“It is so made that by winding up the machinery 
on the inside it will go until the machinery is run 
down, when it must be wound again.” 

“Why do I have to wash my hands and face so 
often, mother?” 

“Because you get them soiled often. It is not 
pleasant to look at soiled faces and hands. How would 
you like it if father and I went about with soiled faces 
and hands? Besides, one can’t be healthy and stay 
dirty. Part of our breath is taken in through the 
skin, and the skin can’t breathe if it isn’t clean. ’ 9 

“How can the skin breathe, mother? It hasn’t any 
mouth. ’ ’ 

“It has thousands of mouths, dear. They are 
called pores.” (If possible show these with magnify¬ 
ing glass.) “These pores, you see, must be kept free 
from dirt so the air can get in.” 

‘ ‘ Why need I brush my teeth ? ’ ’ 

“To get all bits of food away from them and keep 
them clean. If food is left in, it decays, and so makes 
the teeth decay. It also injures the stomach by being 
swallowed. The teeth should be cleaned after each 
meal.” 

“Mother, what makes Fanny Brown (a poor wo¬ 
man’s daughter) wear such old clothes and shoes? 
And why doesn’t she have pretty toys and dolls, like 
mine?” 

“Because Mrs. Brown has no money with which to 



THE LESSON ON THE CLOCK.- 


-A child being taught how to tell time. 












BIG QUESTIONS. 


435 


buy them. Fanny’s father is dead and Mrs. Brown 
works very hard to get enough money for food and 
fuel to keep them warm. She can hardly get money 
enough to buy any clothes whatever for Fanny.” 

' 4 Can’t I give her some of mine? And some of my 
toys ?’ ’ 

It is always best to acquiesce in the generous im¬ 
pulses of a child so far as possible, and yet the lessons 
of self-respect must be taught. 

“We will look over your toys, and I am sure you 
can find some that you can share with Fanny. I am 
afraid, however, that Fanny would hardly like to wear 
your dresses, but I will tell you what we can do. I 
need some extra work done this week, and I will pay 
Mrs. Brown well for it, so she can buy Fanny a dress.” 

“Why should little boys take off their hats to la¬ 
dies and not to men?” 

“Because men have always had a very tender feel¬ 
ing of reverence for women. Men are stronger and 
more powerful than women, and like to protect and 
care for them. They know, too, that their mothers 
have suffered a great deal in bringing them into the 
world, and have borne a great many sacrifices for their 
sakes. They know that all women may be mothers at 
some time, and so because of their tender regard for 
them, their reverence for them, and because they love 
some one woman very much, they like to take off their 
hats to all women, and to treat all women with kind¬ 
ness and chivalry.” 

“Why can’t I pick Mrs. Brown’s flowers, mother?” 

“Because they are Mrs. Brown’s. You wouldn’t 
want Mrs. Brown to come in and pick your flowers, 
would you?” 

“N-—no. But Mrs. Brown said, 'Get out of here, 
you little scamp!’ What is a scamp, mother?” 

“A scamp is one who does something he ought not 


436 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


to. But you didn’t know you were doing something 
you ought not to, so you weren’t a scamp.” 

'‘What made Mrs. Brown call me a scamp then?” 

“Because she didn’t stop to think that you didn’t 
know you were doing wrong. Very often grown peo¬ 
ple judge the actions of little children from their own 
view point, without stopping to think that the child 
doesn’t see it as they do.” 

“Is it wicked for me to pick everybody’s flowers 
but mine?” 

“It will be now that you know you ought not to. 
When a person takes anything that does not belong to 
him, knowing that he should not, it is stealing, and 
people who steal are punished.” 

“How are they punished?” 

“When they are small their parents punish them, 
usually by depriving them of some pleasure, or shut¬ 
ting them up alone so they can think over their wrong 
act, or in some other way. But when they get older 
the law of the town or state punishes them by putting 
them in jail or prison.” 

“If I should tell you not to pick my flowers, and 
you did, could I punish you?” 

“It would only be fair for you to punish me. But 
I would not pick your flowers without asking you, be¬ 
cause I am older, and I know it is not right for people 
to touch each other’s things without asking.” 

“Mrs. Brown threw Johnnie’s blocks in the fire 
one day because she said they were old and no good, 
and Johnnie cried awful. She didn’t have any right 
to, did she?” 

“No, I think not. If Johnnie cared for them I think 
she should have let him keep them.” 

“You burned up one of my blocks one time, 
mother. Did you have any right to?” 

“I think I did then, son, I was teaching you to al¬ 
ways pick up and put away your playthings, and I 
had told you more than once that if I found your 


BIG QUESTIONS. 


437 


blocks lying around the floor when I was sweeping I 
should have to sweep them up with the dirt. Mothers 
have too much work to do to be always picking up 
their little children’s playthings. Besides, that is the 
way little children can help their mothers, and do their 
share of the house work, so when I found the block on 
the floor I had to keep my word.” 

Many mothers have to contend with dawdling on 
the child’s part in the morning’s dressing. 

44 Henry, little son,” calls the mother, 44 aren’t you 
dressed yet!” 

44 I’m dressing. I’ve got one stocking on.” 

4 4 If you are not down in ten minutes you will be 
late for breakfast.” 

44 I don’t care if I am.” 

4 4 But we do. Father and mother like to see all the 
little faces smiling at them from the table when they 
sit down.” 

44 Have I got to clean my teeth!” 

4 4 Yes. Your mouth is not fit to take its breakfast 
until it has been washed.” 

44 I don’t want to hurry.” 

4 4 Very well. If you choose to make father and 
mother unhappy the very first thing in the morning, 
you may do so. But you may not come to breakfast 
at all if you are late. I will give you a bit of bread and 
milk in the kitchen, but you may not come to table 
nor have what we have.” 

44 Why not!” 

4 4 Because we can not have the whole household dis¬ 
turbed just because one little boy chooses to be dis¬ 
agreeable. If you like to be a gentleman now, and 
help to make one day begin pleasantly, you will hustle 
with your clothes, wash your face and hands, brush 
your hair, clean your teeth, and be at the door before 
father to call greetings to him, and surprise him. I’m 
sure you would rather do this than be disagreeable.” 


438 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


This treatment will be a great deal more effective 
than a continuous nagging: 

'‘Come, now, Johnny. Hurry up. You’re going 
to be late.” 

It is a foolish parent who dallies with disobedi¬ 
ence, or who takes, with the child, any other attitude 
than that of definite expectancy of obedience. Too 
many parents wear flagrantly the air of expecting dis¬ 
obedience, and children are keen to discover their 
attitude. 

"Now, Susie,” says the mother, "are you going to 
be a good girl and mind mother about going to bed 
tonight?” Her whole air says, "I don’t suppose 
she’ll mind me, but I’ll see what I can do about it.” 
The child’s instinct to experiment is aroused. If the 
mother had said, with a dignified air of definite final¬ 
ity, "Susie, in just ten minutes it will be your bed 
time. Get your things put away now, and be ready,” 
the child would have obeyed unquestionably, provided 
she had always been used to definite treatment, and 
to going to bed on a stated time. 

As it is, her instinct of rebellion is aroused by the 
questioning air of indecision. 

"No,” she says fretfully, "I don’t want to go to 
bed yet. Can’t I just cut out this page of paper dolls 
first?” 

"Well—” more indecision, "if I let you cut out 
just that page will you be good then?” 

"Yes, I’ll be good then.” 

Here is a chance for speculation in the child’s 
mind. 

"If I hadn’t said I’d go to bed when I’ve got this 
cut out, I wonder what she’d have done ? I wonder if 
she’ll make me go then? If I’m not ready to go when 
the time comes, I’ll tease some more.” And so on. 

Indecision on the part of parents is responsible 
for disobedience. It is not wise to allow a little child 
too much latitude in the matter of asserting itself. 


439 


BIG QUESTIONS. 

The child is not old enough, has not had experience 
enough to decide for himself. He is almost sure to 
decide, ultimately, against the desired end. His acts 
should be governed while he is small, a decisive “do 
thus and so,” given gently and courteously. Later 
when a habit of obedience and right acting is formed, 
he can be left to his own decision. 

We have been able to touch upon only a few of the 
innumerable questions that are being constantly prat¬ 
tled by the child’s lips. We have given only sugges¬ 
tive answers, but we sincerely hope that we have been 
able to make clear the value of these questionings in 
the child’s development, and the necessity for giving 
as clear and truthful an answer as possible. 

We must try to keep ever before us the fact that 
life is unfolding new experiences, new pictures, new 
impressions, hourly, to the child. He can not compare 
the present time to his own past or to any other ex¬ 
periences. He knows no names for objects without 
asking. He knows no reasons without asking why. 
He is subject to every passing whim or mood of his 
elders, unless they are people of understanding and 
appreciation of the pathetic helplessness of childhood. 

Life, and life’s experiences, are, to be sure, the 
great teachers, and will of themselves in time fill the 
hungry mind with plenty of reasons for the why and 
wherefore of things. But will they be rational, whole¬ 
some reasons, or will they be submerged by a moun¬ 
tain of superstition and prejudice, a load under 
which the child must either labor all his life, or strug¬ 
gle from beneath—with many groans and grievous 
lamentations? 

The mother has it in her power—to recognize her 
opportunity and fit herself for it—to set her child 
upon the right path; to teach him proper values; to 
impress him with the difference between right and 
wrong, good and bad; to clear the way for him; to 


440 THE FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD. 


rid his path of terrors; to free him from a bondage 
of fear; to imbue him with a love of truth. 

The child, in his earliest years may not always un¬ 
derstand clearly the whole of an answer to his ques¬ 
tion, but he will at least understand that he has been 
answered truthfully and seriously, and he will feel 
confident that his next query will be met in the same 
spirit. 

A child’s questions should be taken seriously. He 
has asked in all earnestness, because he wanted to 
know. If he is laughed at, treated with contempt, his 
questions repeated before him for the amusement of 
others, he will be chagrined, embarrassed, and will 
resolve, however subconsciously, to ask no more. 
Thus his confidence is lost. 

Children are like sensitive plants. A rude wind, 
a harsh touch, a coarse word, and they close their 
little hearts, shrink within themselves, their express¬ 
ive faces cloud and droop, their cheeks flush, eyes fill, 
hearts swell. Many a cruelty is perpetrated against 
the child’s young nature by thoughtless parents. 

Neither must he be answered sharply, for thus he 
will recognize himself as troublesome, and will not 
venture further. Equanimity, calmness, serenity upon 
the mother’s part, coupled with utter truthfulness, are 
her greatest assets in developing her child’s nature. 






Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: July 2015 


PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION I 


111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724) 779-2111 






















































































































































































































One copy del. to Cat. Div. 


OCT 21 1WI 


UHJSJSI2IZJEiZIEf 




































































































































































































































































































































































































